


While Renly was sleeping

by mawryth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, I know it's out of season, London, London Underground, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, While You Were Sleeping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mawryth/pseuds/mawryth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas in London and Brienne is facing another festive season alone. However, things take a turn to the unexpected when Brienne saves her dream man's life when he gets pushed onto the tube tracks. The man survives, but he's fallen into a coma, and there's another problem - his family think she's his fiancee...</p><p>How will Brienne get out of this mess, and what will she do when Renly's brother-in-law Jaime starts to ask some awkward questions?</p><p>This is a fanfic based heavily on the film 'While you were sleeping' starring Sandra Bullock. I started writing this at Christmas (obvs), but life and work became frantic so it has taken me all this while to put it together. I've written the whole thing and I'm halfway through editing it, so expect regular updates. I hope you enjoy my second foray into fanfic writing - it's been a lot of fun! </p><p>As always, I own none of the characters or material within this story and will not profit in any way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A life underground

**Author's Note:**

> I'm afraid you will have to wait a while before Jaime makes his appearance. Just for the record - the incest between him and Cersei does not exist in this fic. I wanted to keep it light and fluffy, so in this story they are merely brother and sister. I've also found an excuse for Joffrey to be absent as I just hate his guts.
> 
> Also, there will be more than one chapter, but I can't figure out how to change the chapter total... 
> 
> Enjoy!

Brienne hated her job. For eight hours a day she was confined to an airless ticket booth, hemmed in by a constant press of people, their chatter and the sound of tube trains rattling to their next destination assaulting her ears with a constant cacophony of noise.

Squeezed behind her desk, separated from the mass of London tourists, schoolchildren and commuters by a shield of Perspex, she was forced to watch an endless flow of indistinguishable faces, many of whom spoke to her as if she was an automaton and not a living, breathing person just trying to earn a living – except one. 

She looked for him every day. She often wondered why, in an age of Oyster cards and contactless payment, he always queued without fail to buy a day’s travel pass. Of course, sometimes she was not always lucky enough to have him stop at her booth, but as a regular feature of the ticket office, she was able to serve him often enough to make her look out for his arrival. 

This person was the most beautiful man she had ever seen – tall and lean, he boasted cerulean eyes that danced with warmth. His face was also a sculptor’s dream, possessing high cheekbones and a sensual mouth. All of this was beautifully offset by a mane of thick, ebony hair that blew softly in the unnatural breeze of the underground. 

Brienne saw him on an almost daily basis, but she had no idea of his name. In truth, they had barely exchanged any words that went beyond mundane customer/server interaction, but unlike many of her customers, this man always greeted Brienne with a smile and a polite “How are you today?”, before thanking her and walking away to catch whatever train it was he took every day. This lack of interaction hadn’t stopped Brienne from developing a deep crush on this mysterious man, and indeed, the less she knew about him, the more she was able to invent until she had fabricated an entire history and a rose-tinted, imaginary future in which she featured heavily. She felt a little ashamed of these dreams but she clung to them, for she was alone in the world and had little else to brighten her day. 

This morning had been particularly stressful – obnoxious customers and train lines that had been closed for emergency repair had made everything a little more trying, but this was soon forgotten when Brienne spied a dark mop of hair among the crowds. The heavens finally smiled upon her and she found herself face-to-face (well, as close as two people can get when separated by a scratched piece of plastic) with the man of her dreams. 

He beamed at her, revealing his straight, white teeth, so different to Brienne’s own crooked ones, and she felt the blood in her body resettling itself in her cheeks. 

“Good morning,” he smiled. 

“Morning,” she replied, noting that she sounded embarrassingly breathless. “Your usual?” 

His grin stretched wider. “Please.” 

Brienne tapped on her screen to print his day ticket, all the while aware that his bright eyes were watching her every move. Too soon, the ticket printed and Brienne exchanged it for the money he had already counted out. 

“Thank you,” he smiled again. 

“My… my pleasure,” Brienne managed to mumble as he turned and plunged back into the commuter crowds. She looked after him, ignoring her new customer, until he finally turned the corner and vanished. She sighed, and turned back to the task in hand. 

*** 

Christmas was always the worst time for Brienne. It always seemed to her that everyone else was rushing around to buy gifts for their loved ones and planning happy family reunions where they would sit around a fire, drink mulled wine and laugh while wearing silly paper hats. To stop herself from feeling too miserable about it all, Brienne reminded herself of the family arguments and food poisoning that would inevitably blot some families’ holidays – it was the only way she could get through it. 

Each time the holidays rolled round, she was shocked to realise that yet another year had passed since her father’s death. It still felt raw to her, and yet time was still slipping by, almost unnoticed. He had been the last remaining member of her family, and she had loved him with all her heart. 

As the only member of staff without any family, Brienne was not surprised to find herself called into her manager’s office in the week before Christmas. She sat down opposite her manager among a chaos of files, train timetables and other paraphernalia, and waited for the expected pleading to begin. 

“Miss Tarth, as you know, Christmas will soon be upon us…” 

_Here it comes._

“And as you also undoubtedly know, many of your colleagues will be taking annual leave. However, the trains must keep running!” He paused and waited for Brienne’s assent, but when she continued to look blankly at him he cleared his throat and continued. “Well… I know you worked the last Bank Holiday…” 

“And Easter,” Brienne cut in. 

“And Easter, yes…” he conceded. 

“And New Year’s Day,” she added. 

Her manager looked uncomfortable. “Yes, and New Year’s Day… but I was wondering if you would be extremely helpful and work Christmas Eve? Oh! And Boxing Day?” He sat and waited for her response, shifting in his seat under the weight of her stare. 

“I’m not working Christmas.” Brienne tried to sound firm and maintained eye contact with her employer. 

“Brienne, please… there’s no one else…” He trailed off, looking to the floor in order to avoid her gaze. 

Brienne sighed before finishing his sentence. “…without family. Yes, I know.” She paused for a little while, picturing her plans for Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, which predominately revolved around her eating Milk Tray and cuddling her cat. Eventually she gave in and nodded her head. Her manager instantly beamed, the relief he felt at securing her agreement showing clearly in his face. 

“Excellent! Thank you again, Brienne. You have been most helpful.” 

Brienne nodded and took her leave, already cursing her weakness. “Merry Christmas to me,” she muttered as she trailed back to her cramped booth in the ticket office. 

*** 

“Ugh, this is the LAST time I let a cute salesman talk me into a stupid purchase,” Brienne huffed. She was preoccupied in attempting to haul an overly large Christmas tree through the window of her miniscule London flat, and so far, it wasn’t going well. 

“All I wanted… was… a _small_ tree… just something that would sit in the corner. But noooo… I had to get this monster!” she grumbled between sharp tugs on the rope that was straining to pull the tree up. She had almost succeeded in dragging the tree into the room when the rope suddenly gave out. 

“Fuck!” she shouted as she saw her tree vanish from sight of the window. “Double fuck!” she added as she heard the distinct sound of shattering glass. “God, this day really couldn’t get any worse,” she moaned as she leant out of the window to survey the damage. 

Fortunately, the tree had smashed through the window of her landlord, who just happened to like Brienne and therefore forgave her for the rude and unexpected intrusion of a Christmas tree through his window. Unfortunately, her landlord also had a very much unwanted crush on her, and Brienne now feared that she would be unable to escape his clutches for much longer. 

“I’m _so_ sorry Hyle,” she muttered for the hundredth time. “It was stupid of me to try and get it through the window… I will get a smaller tree next time. Please, let me know how much it will cost to replace the window.” 

Hyle pressed a sweaty hand to her shoulder. “Hey, no problems,” he replied in an oily voice. “I know someone in the window business – they’ll give me a cheap deal.” 

Brienne tried not to shy away from his warm, wet hand on her shoulder, which she could feel even through her thick jumper. “Thanks Hyle, but really, I should pay. I caused the damage.” 

Hyle simply smiled unctuously, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. “I said no problem! But hey, maybe we could have dinner sometime… that would be one way to make up for the trouble…” His voice trailed off as he ran his eyes over Brienne’s statuesque figure, evidently trying to make out what lay beneath her shapeless winter layers. 

“That would be… nice,” Brienne managed to stutter. “But perhaps after Christmas? Everywhere good to eat is packed with office parties at the moment.” 

Hyle smiled again. “Sure… unless we stay here and you cook for me? I bet you’re a great cook,” he said, licking his lips as he did so. 

Brienne blanched. “God, _me_? Cook? I burn water, I truly do!” This was, actually, completely false, but there was no way Brienne was going to cook up a romantic meal for two for someone as unsettling as Hyle Hunt. 

“Pity… I like a woman who knows how to cook,” Hyle replied. 

Brienne smiled weakly and began to back away towards the door. “Yeah, such a pity… Anyway, you’ll let me know about the window, OK?” 

“Sure… but what do you want to do about your tree?” 

Brienne looked at the tree, which had been battered slightly by its fight with the window pane. “I… I don’t know. I guess I can carry it up the stairs.” 

Hyle suddenly brightened. “Hey! I’ll help! I’m much stronger than you,” he said proudly, evidently pleased by the opportunity to demonstrate his masculinity. 

Brienne sincerely doubted that he was stronger than her, but an extra pair of hands would certainly make the job easier. “OK then. Thanks, Hyle,” she replied gratefully. Hyle beamed and trotted over to the tree, hefting up one end of it while making a series of animalistic grunts that reminded Brienne of a rutting warthog. 

Half an hour later and the tree was finally installed in her flat. She was right – it was far too big and had necessitated the reorganisation of all her living room furniture, but at least it was reasonably intact. Hyle had muscled his way up four flights of stairs without a single complaint, although he had looked exhausted by the time the tree was finally set in the right place. Brienne felt a bit guilty for using his enthusiasm to get a helping hand, but after all, he _had_ offered. 

Sighing, she thought of her half-hearted promise of a date with Hyle. Hopefully he would forget it over the holidays and she wouldn’t have to go through with it, although she had to admit, it wasn’t like she had any better plans.


	2. I was going to marry him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne becomes a hero and lands herself in a mess...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooo
> 
> I've posted this on the same day as chapter one as I felt it didn't give much of an indicator as to where the story was going. This chapter, on the other hand, gets things going a bit. :-)

It was Christmas Eve and Brienne was sat all alone in her tiny booth, idly watching people passing by. Many were clutching bags stuffed with presents or large suitcases that had been rammed with clothes to see them through the holiday while they visited their numerous friends and family. Brienne felt more alone than ever as she gazed at them, but as she had nothing else to occupy her time, she continued to watch them flit past as she daydreamed about what each one may be doing or where they may be going. Soon, she became so completely lost in her thoughts that she completely missed the approach of a familiar figure.

“Happy Christmas!” 

Brienne blinked and jerked up from her slumped position just in time to see the flash of the dark-haired man’s smile. 

“I… er…” she stuttered, but it was too late – he had evidently already bought a ticket and was now striding purposefully down the corridor to the tube trains. Brienne slumped back in her seat and banged her head on her desk. “Happy Christmas!” she moaned. “I love you, will you marry me?” 

She continued moan and grumble to herself for a long time before she eventually pulled herself upright and tried to compose herself. _Another missed opportunity!_ Still muttering to herself, she resettled herself into position and prepared to continue staring at the passing travellers, but just then, she happened to glance at the CCTV screen in the corner of the office. What she saw froze her in her seat. 

The beautiful man was obviously catching a different train to normal as he didn’t usually appear on this screen after he had bought his ticket, but today he was clearly in view – and he was not alone. A group of youths that Brienne had seen pass by her office a while ago had surrounded him, and it looked as though their intentions were far from friendly. Brienne hurriedly reached for her phone to ring security when the worst happened – one of the boys reached out and pushed the man, and he fell straight onto the tracks. 

“God no!” Brienne shrieked, hurling down the phone. Without thinking, she sped out of the office and ran towards the platform. As she sped down the corridor, the boys raced in the other direction, almost knocking her over in their haste. She paid little attention, her full efforts focused on reaching the handsome man and seeing if he was OK. 

Brienne’s shoes squeaked on the floor as she came to a halt by the edge of the now deserted platform. Gasping for breath, she looked down at the inert form of the man. 

“Sir!” she shouted, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “Sir, can you hear me?” 

There was no response. Swearing under her breath, Brienne jumped down onto the tracks and bent over the man. “God, you smell good,” she muttered as she inhaled his spicy cologne. She felt for a pulse and was relieved when she felt it beating strongly against her fingers, but he was still unconscious. Shaking him gently she willed him to wake up, but although his eyelids flickered, he did not wake up. 

“Please wake up, please,” she begged, but there was no response. “Please, someone, help us!” she shouted, desperately wishing there was someone else nearby. But it seemed as though luck had deserted her, for there was no friendly call to indicate that help was coming. 

Things then went from bad to worse as Brienne noticed that a breeze had begun to swirl the man’s thick hair. A tube train was coming. 

Panic now spiked through her – if she didn’t move now, she would be crushed by the oncoming carriages. But she couldn’t leave this beautiful man to his fate – after all, he was one of the few who smiled at her and recognised her existence. If she left him here to die, there would be nothing else for her to look forward to all day. 

Her heart began to beat rapidly as she weighed her chances, but there was really no choice – she had to try to save them both. 

Reaching down, she grasped the man firmly under his arms and began hauling him up. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for her freakish strength, which meant that she was eventually able to haul the man over her shoulder. Carefully, she moved towards the platform, trying to ignore the shrieking sound of the tube train’s brakes as it neared the platform. Desperately, she threw the man off her shoulder and onto the platform. The lights from the oncoming train were now blinding her, and she couldn’t see where he had landed. The train was so close now that her skin was prickling in anticipation of the collision. With one last almighty effort, she launched herself upwards and sideways, landing heavily on the platform. 

At first, all she could hear was her heart pounding and her breath coming in ragged gasps, but then she made out the sound of running feet and shocked voices. 

“Are they OK?” 

“She was on the tracks!” 

“Crazy woman!” 

“She saved that man’s life!” 

Brienne groaned and shut her ears to them, focusing instead on crawling over to where she had unceremoniously thrown the handsome stranger. He was still all in one piece, and despite looking desperately pale, he was alive. 

“Thank God,” Brienne muttered, before she collapsed next to him. 

*** 

The next moments went by in a blur, but somehow she found herself being forcibly placed inside an ambulance alongside the still-unconscious stranger whose life she had just saved. She was aware that the ambulance crew was talking to her to try and gauge what had happened and find out the man’s identity, but she couldn’t even open her mouth to deny all knowledge. Instead, she stared stupidly at his beautiful face and willed him to open his eyes. Before she knew it, the doors were thrown open again and the man was bundled outside. 

“What? Where’s he going?” Brienne shrieked, suddenly finding her tongue. 

A kindly female paramedic with wild red hair placed her hand on Brienne’s shoulder. “It’s alright – the doctors in A  & E need to see him now. They will take great care of him. Now, let’s get you seen to, shall we?” 

Brienne leapt to her feet and banged her head on the roof of the ambulance. “I must go with him!” she gasped as she clutched her pounding head. 

“Are you family?” 

Brienne blushed. “No…” 

The paramedic shook her head. “Then I’m afraid you will have to wait to see him.” 

“But…” Brienne stammered as tears threatened to streak down her cheeks. _What if he dies?_ Instantly, her pleasant dreams of their imaginary wedding day and their cosy semi-detached house that was littered with the toys of their perfect two-child family began to shatter and she could hold onto her composure no more. “I was going to marry him…” she whimpered, her voice scarcely above a whisper. 

Behind her, the paramedic’s face changed. Suddenly, Brienne found herself steered out of the ambulance and into the hospital. She soon became thoroughly disoriented as she was taken down various corridors that all looked pretty much the same. 

Eventually, she was pushed into a small waiting room that had a few strained looking people sitting in it. She turned to the paramedic in confusion. 

“Just wait here. I will let the nursing staff know where you are and then they will come and talk to you when they know what’s going on.” The paramedic smiled sympathetically at Brienne, and then disappeared back down the magnolia corridor. Not really knowing what else to do, Brienne took a seat and tried not to make eye contact with anyone else in the room. 

Her whole mind was in a bit of a mess – everything had started out so normally! One minute she was locked in her booth of boredom, and then in the next moment she was standing on train tracks and scrambling out of the way of an incoming train. And the man – he’d nearly died! She’d saved him. And wow, had he smelt nice… But he was still wounded and he hadn’t woken up. She just hoped that her valiant rescue attempt hadn’t been for nothing. Brienne lowered her head into her hands and tried to block out the terrible memories of the last time she’d sat anxiously in a hospital waiting room. 

After what seemed like an age, a nurse bustled into the room. A whole sea of heads looked up expectantly, but Brienne was surprised when the nurse quickly stepped over to where she was sitting. 

“Er, miss? Are you the lady who came in with Renly Baratheon?” 

Brienne blinked at her. “Renly?” 

“Yes. If you’d like to follow me, the doctor would like to give you an update.” 

Brienne staggered up after her, still unsure as to whether Renly was indeed the man she had rescued. The nurse led her to a private room in the Intensive Care Unit, where Brienne was horrified to see the man of her dreams plugged into various machines that made unsettling noises and beeps at erratic intervals. A cough finally made her tear her gaze away from the sight before her and she locked eyes with a serious looking doctor. 

“Good afternoon. My name is Doctor Pycelle and I am responsible for Mr Baratheon’s care,” he began in a low monotonous voice. “I’m afraid the fall has caused some swelling on Mr Baratheon’s brain. For this reason we are keeping him in an induced coma for the time being. When the swelling goes down, we will slowly reduce the sedatives.” 

“And then he’ll wake up?” Brienne asked, her hope showing plainly in her voice. 

The doctor paused for a moment. “In the best case scenario, yes… But there is, of course, the possibility that he may not. He’s had a serious blow to the head and the brain is a complex organ – sometimes it recovers well, and other times it doesn’t. I’m afraid we will all be playing a bit of a waiting game for a while.” 

Brienne’s eyes widened in horror and she turned back to the prone man in the bed. “Can I sit with him?” she whispered. 

The doctor nodded. “Of course,” he answered, before silently exiting the room. 

Brienne shuffled over to the bed, glancing uneasily at all of the machines surrounding it before finally perching on an uncomfortable plastic chair. Leaning forward, she took a good long look at his face. “Renly,” she murmured, savouring the sound of his name. It suited him and lent his perfect features even more magnificence. 

She must have sat for some time just quietly admiring his face when there was a knock on the door. Brienne turned in time to see a police officer enter the room. He took his hat off in respect to the unconscious man and revealed a mop of dark curly hair. 

“Excuse me miss, but I’m Officer Stark and I was told that you were a witness to the incident today?” 

Brienne rose from her chair. “Oh! Yes! Yes, I was.” 

The officer smiled kindly, his dark brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “Then, if you feel up to it, I’d like to take a statement?” 

Brienne nodded and moved from her seat beside the bed to a corner of the room - Renly was clearly unconscious but she didn’t want to disturb him by holding a conversation right by his ear, just in case there was a chance that he could hear her. 

Brienne was almost at the end of her story when the echoing sound of raised voices was heard in the corridor. The voices slowly got closer until the door to Renly’s room burst open with a crash, making both Brienne and the officer jump. Suddenly it seemed as though a never ending crowd of people were piling into the room, led by a large, rotund man whose booming voice reverberated around the room with a ferocity that hurt Brienne’s ears. 

“God GOD, is he _dead?_ ” the big man boomed, marching over to the head of the bed. The rest of the group, which included a glamorous blond woman, a tall, severe man, two golden-haired children and a very short man, followed him and peered at Renly’s face as though he were an unusual specimen in a museum. 

“No, no…” replied Doctor Pycelle, who was wrestling his way through the press of people. “He’s in a coma…” 

Brienne began to feel distinctly uncomfortable and very, very aware that she didn’t belong here. Quietly, she began to edge towards the open doorway in order to exit the room without anyone noticing. She’d been lucky so far that she had been unobserved, and she wanted to stay that way. The doctor’s explanations were still being made as she slowly tiptoed towards her escape route. Brienne could see the comforting glow of the fluorescent lights of the corridor, but before she could step through the doorway and disappear her luck ran out. 

“And _who_ is that?” 

Brienne froze and turned slowly to find the beautiful woman’s icy green eyes fixed on her and her rumpled uniform. One by one, the other members of Renly’s family turned to look at her, causing her to blush all over her body. Their scrutiny was unwavering. Brienne tried to say something, anything, but her mouth merely opened and closed in a poor attempt to mimic a dying fish. The silence was deafening. 

Fortunately, Officer Stark then stepped in. “Please show Ms Tarth some respect, madam! She saved Mr Baratheon’s life!” 

Confusion flickered across everyone’s face. 

“But I was told that he was pushed onto the tube tracks!” boomed the voice of the large man. 

“He was,” the officer replied. “Ms Tarth jumped on the tracks.” 

“She jumped on the tracks?!” 

Brienne now began to fidget in the wake of the group’s growing disbelief, desperately wishing that she had left before their arrival, or that she had never come to Renly’s room in the first place. As Christmas Eves went, this one was starting to number among her worst. 

The stunning woman now spoke up again. “But _why?_ ” 

Brienne blinked, wondering what sort of question that was. Surely anyone would have done the same? She was just opening her mouth to say just that when the doctor dropped her into a whole pile of mess. 

“She’s his fiancée!” 

Instantly, all hell broke loose. 

“What?!” screeched the beautiful woman. The small man laughed, and the two children shrieked, in what was delight, amazement or utter disbelief, Brienne couldn’t decide. As for her, her heart had stopped. Suddenly it became very clear as to why she had finally been allowed into Renly’s room – she had thought it was because they had found out that she had helped to rescue him, but it now appeared that her muttered comment in the ambulance had been taken at face value. _Oh God, how do I explain THIS?_

As these thoughts sped through her mind, the noise and confusion in the room was growing. The blonde woman was now laughing hysterically, breathlessly repeating “You? Renly proposed to _you?_ ”, while the big man shook his head in dumbfounded confusion. Brienne tried to raise her voice above the din to refute the bemused doctor’s statement when a consultant rushed into the room. 

“Doctor Pycelle, what are all these people doing in here? Two guests maximum! Everyone out! Out now!” 

Eventually the red-faced consultant’s words were heeded and he successfully herded everyone out of the very crowded room. The noise level didn’t drop, however, so the group was led over to a private waiting room further down the corridor. As Brienne stood stricken and unsure what to do, she suddenly spied the paramedic who had brought her in earlier. She immediately rushed over and seized the paramedic’s arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked breathlessly. The paramedic nodded in confusion before Brienne bodily dragged her down the corridor in the opposite direction of the family. 

“What’s the _matter?_ ” gasped the poor paramedic, who tried to extricate her arm from Brienne’s iron grip. 

“Why did you tell them I was Mr Baratheon’s _fiancée?_ ” Brienne whispered harshly, embarrassment at her predicament filling her words with despair. 

The paramedic blinked at her, confusion writ plain across her face. “ _You_ said you were going to marry him!” she cried. 

Brienne hid her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean it! I was just… thinking out loud!” 

The paramedic rolled her eyes. “Well next time, shut your mouth and remind yourself you’re single!” 

“Oh God,” groaned Brienne. “What am I going to do? I should never have been in his room. This is so embarrassing!” 

The paramedic looked at her pityingly, but before she could say anything the large man’s voice boomed down the corridor. “Where’s she gone? I want to talk to my brother’s betrothed! Where is she?” 

Brienne’s eyes went wide and she desperately tried to hide behind the paramedic like a little girl, but her immense height made the task impossible. The big man, who had now identified himself as Renly’s brother, quickly spotted her and motioned for her to join them. “There you are! No use hiding girl, your secret is out of the bag now! Join us!” 

Brienne flushed scarlet. “I… I can’t… I, um…” She looked pleadingly at the paramedic, desperate to find some way out of the situation. 

“Make an excuse,” whispered the paramedic. “I’ll tell them all about the mix up after you’ve gone.” She smiled sympathetically and Brienne sagged with relief. 

“I’m sorry!” she called over to Renly’s brother. “But I have to get back to work and… and file a report about the attack. I’m really sorry!” And with that, she turned and fled down the corridor, her cheeks burning like two great red torches. _That,_ she thought to herself as she barrelled out of the hospital exit, _has got to be the most embarrassing day of my life_. But then she smiled – at least she had saved the beautiful man. And she’d learnt his name. Renly. Perhaps things would turn into a fairytale and he would wake up and fall in love with her and… 

She shook her head violently to dispel her silly thoughts. NO! She told herself brusquely. _Real life isn’t like that. He’s a complete stranger. Go back to work and focus on reality_. But try as she might, Renly kept invading her thoughts.


	3. Come for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Day and Brienne can't help but worry about Renly, so she pays another ill-advised visit to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay - I thought the Bank Holiday weekend would give me lots of free time, but I ended up having to write an article for work instead. SIGH. Anyway, here is chapter three. Thanks for all of your comments so far!

Christmas Day. Brienne watched the dawn slowly filter through the wispy curtains at her window and bathe her miniscule bedroom in a warm yellow light. The sight usually brought comfort to her, but this morning she just felt tired and worn out. She had gone back to work after running away from the hospital, but her manager, who had been called away from his house in the wake of the incident, had insisted she go home. Brienne had reluctantly traipsed away only to end up sitting on her sofa in a kind of daze. She kept reliving the events of the day and enduring the hot feeling of embarrassment as she recalled the hospital mix up. Eventually she had dragged herself off to bed, but she hadn’t been able to sleep.

She now watched as the light in her bedroom grew in strength, revealing the familiar items of her cluttered room. On the shelf were photos of her parents and her long-lost brother, and pinned on every available wall surface were pictures of all the places she would love to visit someday. Her heart twisted as she glanced at them – they were places she and her father had dreamed about seeing, but then he got sick and their dreams were confined to posters blue-tacked haphazardly on the walls. She knew she should still go and see them, but now that she had no one to go with, the idea felt hollow. What was the point of seeing the canals of Venice or standing in the Colosseum if she couldn’t share the moment with someone? Memories are empty when they are only held by yourself. 

Pulling her gaze from the posters, Brienne’s thoughts strayed to Renly. She wondered how he was doing and whether there had been any change in his condition overnight. She itched to know, but had to accept the idea that she had no right to the information. 

But… she _had_ saved his life, and surely that counted for something? 

Resolve flooded through her and Brienne leapt from the bed in a sudden burst of energy. Showering quickly, she dressed and bundled herself up in her worn coat to keep the worst of the winter cold away. Heading out onto the street, she marvelled at how the usually buzzing city lay quiet, the majority of its residents having holed themselves up in their homes to gather around their Christmas trees. 

It took nearly an hour of brisk walking before she got to the hospital doors, and while she stood outside catching her breath she began to wonder whether coming was a good idea. _What if the family are there?_ But it _was_ very early, and she was only going to be there for a little while… 

Taking a deep breath, she plunged through the doors and made her way to the ICU unit, her trainers squeaking loudly on the floor and her eyes watering from the smell of disinfectant assailing her nose. She finally came to the door of Renly’s room and cautiously peeked through the window. With a sigh of relief she realised that the room was empty of raucous family members. Glancing quickly around her, she slipped into the room. 

It was much the same as the day before; several machines beeped and whirred around the bed, but other than that there was no other sound other than Brienne’s hushed breathing. She approached the bed with trepidation, fearing that Renly had deteriorated overnight. To her relief he looked the same, and she even thought she saw a little heightened colour in his otherwise pallid face, although she could have been imagining it. 

She perched down on her old seat next to the bed and took her time to admire Renly’s fine cheekbones and the strong lines of his jaw. A faint black stubble was appearing over his cheeks and chin, which made him look older but no less handsome. 

Sighing, Brienne sat back in her chair and relaxed, listening to the soothing, rhythmic sounds of the machines. _I’ll stay for just a few more minutes. Just a few more…_ But before she even finished the thought, her eyelids drooped and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

*** 

“Morning!” 

A crash and a bellowing voice shattered Brienne’s peace and had her shooting up out of her chair, upending it in the process. 

“Oh God, _sorry_ , I didn’t realise you were asleep!” 

Renly’s brother was marching towards her, a look of concern on his round face. “Hell, you weren’t here all night were you?” he questioned with a frown. 

Brienne frantically rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Oh, no! Of course not… I just couldn’t sleep, so I got here early…” Frantically, she looked at the door, but the tall thin man and the little man were blocking her exit. “I, um, I really must go,” she muttered, hoping that the barricade would move and release her. 

“Not so fast!” said Renly’s brother, who clapped a large calloused hand on her shoulder. Brienne shook under its impact and waited for the accusations to come – surely he was wondering why a woman who pretended to be his brother’s fiancée was back in his hospital room. Brienne quivered – she must look like an obsessed stalker of the highest degree. 

“Look, I can explain!” She panted. “I just wanted to…” 

“There’s no need to explain,” he said kindly. “Renly has always been a secretive bugger, so it’s not surprising that he kept you under wraps. But let’s start from the beginning, shall we? I’m Robert, the eldest, and that there,” he pointed to the tall anaemic-looking man, “is Stannis, my other brother.” 

“And I am Tyrion, his brother-in-law,” interrupted the short man, who marched over purposefully with his hand outstretched. 

Brienne stood frozen for a moment as she realised that the paramedic had evidently _not_ communicated the truth to Renly’s family and that they were all, therefore, still under the impression that she was engaged to the poor man lying in the bed. _Oh God. I wish the ground would swallow me up._

She was weighing up her chances of running straight out of the door without anyone stopping her when she realised that Tyrion’s hand was still reaching up towards her, a slight quizzical smile playing about his lips as he waited for her to reciprocate. Recognising her rudeness, Brienne slowly stooped from her great height and took his hand in hers, giving it a firm shake. “Brienne,” she mumbled as she released his hand. 

“Oh yes, we know your name my dear,” smiled Tyrion. “The police officer told us all about you and your rescue of the damsel in distress yesterday.” He said this with a twinkle in his eye, and Brienne immediately decided that she liked him, although she slightly resented Renly being labelled a ‘damsel’. Robert, however, let rip a deep-bellied laugh and clapped Tyrion on the shoulder. 

Brienne smiled shakily in response and shuffled uneasily on her feet, desperately hoping that she would soon be able to escape. Through her confusion, she noted some kind of unspoken communication going on between the brothers and Tyrion, before Robert finally gasped, “Oh, yes!” and turned to Brienne once more. 

“Well, seeing as Christmas for us has been delayed somewhat, we were wondering if – when we know how Renly is getting on, of course – you would like to join us for a belated Christmas? The kids would love to see you again and I would hate for Renly to wake up and think we hadn’t taken care of you.” He smiled broadly and waited for her answer. 

Brienne felt the inevitable blush creeping up from her chest to settle firmly in her cheeks. She felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on her and found herself unable to formulate an answer or an excuse. “That would be lovely, thank you,” she heard herself say in a broken voice. _That’s right; dig yourself into a nice, deep hole. Idiot!_

“Excellent! Well, we’ll have to see how things go with Renly, of course. None of us feel like celebrating when things are still so uncertain, but at least it gives us all something to look forward to, eh?” boomed Robert. 

Brienne nodded meekly and sighed with relief as attention reverted back to the prone man lying on the hospital bed. 

“He looks terrible,” muttered Stannis without much compassion. 

“Actually I…” Brienne stammered as the focus shifted back to her. “I think he has more colour in his face today.” 

All eyes went back to Renly and Tyrion nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, perhaps he does look a little better…” 

“Humph,” replied Stannis, who was peering closely at his brother’s face as though he was examining a dissection in a laboratory. 

“Where’s the damn doctor?” questioned Robert, who looked around the room as if one would magically materialise out of the air. 

“He hasn’t been here since I came in,” replied Brienne. “I’ll go and ask for him.” Before anyone could reply, she seized her opportunity and fled out of the door, drawing in deep breaths as she did so. _I don’t HAVE to spend Christmas with them… I’ll just not mention it to them again and perhaps they’ll forget… Or Renly will wake up and the whole truth will come out. Oh God!_

Brienne was marching down the corridor to the nurse’s station when she spied the familiar face of the paramedic. “Excuse me!” she called. The paramedic immediately turned and began to speed in the opposite direction. Fortunately, Brienne’s long legs soon caught up with her and she turned the paramedic to face her. 

“Oh, hello again!” the paramedic chirped, looking a little uncomfortable under Brienne’s stare. Brienne glanced down at the woman’s nametag and read the name ‘Ygritte’. 

“Hello _Ygritte_ ,” Brienne replied, giving the words heavy emphasis. “I thought a certain little misunderstanding would have been cleared up by now…” 

Ygritte sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know, I know, I did say I’d do it, but I’m a paramedic! I’m _busy_. I had to rush off to an emergency just as I was making my way towards them.” She shrugged. “It can’t be helped.” 

Brienne groaned. “They’ve just invited me to spend _Christmas_ with them!” 

Ygritte’s eyes went round. “Wow! Well at least you’ll get a free meal out of this.” 

“What? I don’t care about a free meal! I care about being free of this mess!” Brienne cried, running her hands through her close-cropped blond hair. 

Ygritte shrugged again. “Well, you haven’t exactly helped matters by showing up here again, have you?” 

Brienne blushed with guilt. “I… I just wanted to make sure he was OK!” 

“Of course! It’s a perfectly natural impulse for a _fiancée_ ,” Ygritte retorted. 

Brienne flushed an even deeper red. “I’ve made this so much worse, haven’t I?” 

“Yup,” replied Ygritte unsympathetically. “Why didn’t you just say ‘no’ to the invite and then explain everything? It wasn’t too late.” 

“I couldn’t!” Brienne gasped. But Ygritte merely raised one sardonic eyebrow in response – she knew, just as well as Brienne did, that she was just making excuses. Brienne shook her head violently and moaned. “What the hell am I going to do?” 

“Is everything alright Brienne?” 

She spun round and found Tyrion standing a little way behind her, a concerned look on his face. Brienne quickly blinked away some tears that had been beginning to form and turned to him with a tight smile. “I’m fine, thank you,” she managed to reply. 

Tyrion’s face creased further in sympathy. “You don’t have to pretend, my dear. No one is expecting you to be brave in a situation like this.” 

Brienne’s face flamed with guilt, and she glanced uneasily at Ygritte, who was grinning and seemingly enjoying the show. Brienne desperately tried to muster the courage to tell the truth, but then Tyrion gently gripped her arm and began to lead her in the direction of the nurse’s station. “Let’s go and find that doctor, shall we?” he said soothingly, and Brienne found herself following him meekly without a word of protest. 

*** 

It was now late afternoon and Renly had been taken away for some tests, so the unlikely group, which consisted of Renly’s brothers, Tyrion and Brienne, now found themselves in a sterile waiting room that was devoid of distractions or amusement. 

Brienne shuffled in the uncomfortable chair in which she was sat. She had never intended to remain at the hospital for so long, but she found herself unable to leave while the others were still here. She was surprised at Tyrion’s prolonged stay – as Robert’s brother-in-law he surely didn’t _need_ to be here, but he seemed quite content to simply sit in the waiting room with the others. 

The silence was eventually broken by Robert. “So, Brienne, where are your family? They know where you are, don’t they?” 

Brienne cleared her throat awkwardly. “Actually, I have no family. My mother and brother passed away when I was little, and my dad died a couple of years ago.” 

“Oh… I’m sorry…” replied Robert bashfully. 

Another silence fell in which Brienne could tell that Robert was mentally berating himself for putting his foot in it. 

Suddenly Stannis spoke up. “So you were going to spend Christmas Day by _yourself_ while Renly was with us?” he asked incredulously. 

Brienne flushed bright pink, but Tyrion saved her from having to make some kind of excuse. “I know! We need to hear a nice story right now… Brienne, how did you and Renly meet?” Tyrion smiled, and Brienne noticed a distinct glimmer in his mismatched eyes. _Does he know something?_

The question needed to be addressed in some way and all eyes were once again on her. “Well… We saw each other every day at the ticket office. He usually comes to my booth…” Brienne began. 

“Ah love at first sight, eh?” Tyrion commented. “What was it that first made you notice him?” 

Brienne squirmed at the question. “I guess… his smile? He is one of the few people to smile at me every day.” 

Robert guffawed. “It’s fake!” he cried. “His mouth is full of caps. It cost him a fortune to get that smile – he used to be a bit buck-toothed when we were boys.” 

Brienne chuckled at the thought and began to feel slightly better about her own crooked teeth. Robert then launched into other nostalgic tales about their shared childhood, with occasional interjections from Stannis, who even managed to crack a smile once or twice. Occasionally Brienne would catch Tyrion’s eye mid-laughter and he would grin warmly at her, although she still wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or not. 

Their laughter had just died down when the doctor came back into the room. All of them stood and waited anxiously for the news. 

“There’s not much to report, I’m afraid,” reported the doctor. “The swelling on the brain has subsided a little, but we will have to wait a few days to see a real improvement. I would suggest going home and resting. There won’t be any dramatic changes tonight.” 

All four of them nodded their thanks and slowly filed out of the hospital. _I suppose no news is good news._

“Don’t forget!” Robert called as Brienne said her goodbyes, “Keep your diary free for our own private Christmas Day!” 

Brienne’s stomach turned but she mustered up a nod of thanks and turned in the direction of home, more relieved than ever to be by herself once more. But she had to admit, Renly did seem to have a lovely family – he was lucky, and it would be wonderful to be part of it. But Brienne knew that that could never happen, and one day very soon the truth would come out and this little fantasy would all fall apart.


	4. Christmas with the Baratheons... and the Lannisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne is unable to avoid a Christmas dinner with her new family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - this sounds like the long awaited introduction of Jaime... but I'm cruel and you will have to wait until the next installment for the big event. :-)

The next day, Brienne furtively visited the hospital again, purposefully choosing an odd time around her shift so that she didn’t bump into any of the family. However, her efforts came to naught when the doctor handed her a note just as she was about to leave. Tearing open the envelope, Brienne saw a time, date and address listed out. Underneath was scrawled the following:

Dear Brienne, 

We seem to have missed you during our visit, so I hope you don’t mind receiving an invitation this way. I hope you haven’t forgotten our invitation to Christmas dinner? My niece and nephew need a distraction, so although Renly continues in much the same way, we would like to host our dinner tomorrow. It would be wonderful if you could come. 

Tyrion. 

Queasiness began to fill Brienne’s stomach as she contemplated the invitation. To ignore it would be the height of bad manners, but what could she do? She didn’t belong there! But she had no way of calling Tyrion to make an excuse… 

All the way home Brienne battled with herself, trying to think of a sensible way out of this mess. But try as she might, she had no answers. She’d just have to go. 

*** 

**Tyrion: You’re coming tomorrow night, right?**

**Jaime: Do I have to?**

**Tyrion: Yes.**

**Jaime: I don’t think I can face it.**

**Tyrion: Think of Myrcella and Tommen – they’ve got one uncle in hospital so they need a replacement. You’ll have to do.**

**Jaime: They’ve got you.**

**Tyrion: I’m only half an uncle. And they want more presents.**

**Jaime: I don’t know… You know I hate putting up with Cersei's shit.**

**Tyrion: And you think I enjoy it? Perhaps you suppose that I have suddenly developed a love of 'halfman' jokes and her attempts to belittle me with new furniture that requires the athleticism of a highjumper to get on?**

**Jaime: No – so I have no idea why you always go and stay with her for Christmas.**

**Tyrion: Because it gives me an excellent excuse to avoid spending Christmas with father instead. At least here I get served wine and can enjoy the adoration of my nephew and niece.**

**Jaime: You still aren't convincing me to come.**

**Tyrion: Am I not? How about this – you need to meet Renly’s fiancée…**

**Jaime: His WHAT?**

**Tyrion: Her name is Brienne. She’s very nice. And tall…**

**Jaime: Everyone is tall to you.**

**Tyrion: I think she may even give you a run for your money.**

**Jaime: Doesn’t sound like Renly’s type.**

**Tyrion: No... It’s all very intriguing. I sense something is going on beneath the surface but I can't figure it out – not yet anyway. Why don't you come and see for yourself?**

**Jaime: Fine, you’ve made me curious. I’ll try to be there.**

**Tyrion: Bring booze. I think Robert and Cersei have drunk the place dry.**

**Jaime: Surprise…**

**Tyrion: See you tomorrow for fun and games.**

**Jaime: Great.**

*** 

Brienne stood shivering on the path contemplating the sight before her. She was in one of London’s priciest boroughs and she felt distinctly out of place in her dad’s old black coat and her worn boots. She felt highly uncomfortable and kept glancing around as if expecting someone to approach her and tell her to go back to where she belonged. 

The house in front of her was three storeys high and liberally decked out in twinkling white Christmas lights so that it looked a little like the dreamy houses pictured on Victorian Christmas cards. A tasteful wreath covered in silky red ribbons hung on the door and the lights within sent a warm glow out onto the frosty path. 

Everything about the sight should have filled Brienne with festive cheer, but in reality the sight only intimidated her. _I don’t belong here_ , she thought to herself. _I’m a fraud and a liar. I should be at home with a cup of hot chocolate binge watching some holiday crap on TV._

Clutching her gift, a vibrant poinsettia, Brienne began to debate the option of turning smartly round and walking away. Her poor excuse for a gift only added to her sense of inadequacy and her guilt about what she was hiding from the people within the palatial house. But just as her mind settled on walking as quickly as her long legs would carry her, she heard her name called. 

“Brienne! You made it!” 

Reluctantly, Brienne turned to see Tyrion waddling up the street towards the housse. She plastered a smile on her face and fervently hoped he wouldn’t pick up on her unease. 

“God, it’s freezing tonight! Why were you standing on the pavement?” Tyrion quizzed, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“I… wasn’t sure I had the right house,” Brienne replied feebly. 

“Well, I can confirm that this is the right place. I should know, I’ve been coming here for years,” Tyrion replied easily, choosing to ignore Brienne’s discomfort. “But we needn’t go in straightaway… Fancy keeping me company while I have a cheeky cigarette? My sister doesn’t let me smoke in the house.” 

Brienne sighed with relief at the chance to delay the agonising moment when she would have to knock on the door and go in, and happily agreed to keep Tyrion company, even though she despised the smell of smoke. 

Tyrion flashed her a warm smile and promptly lit a ready-rolled cigarette, exhaling the smoke through his nose with a look of pure ecstasy on his face. “Aaah, that’s better,” he breathed, a wisp of smoke coiling from his mouth like a phantom snake. Brienne smiled politely at him and shuffled her feet, not knowing what to say. They continued to stand in silence for a few moments, Brienne becoming painfully aware that Tyrion was observing her curiously as he puffed his way through the cigarette. “I’m not going to lie, Brienne, tonight is probably going to be hard work,” he said suddenly, breaking the awkward tension. “My family is loud and… eccentric at the best of times, and it will probably be a little overwhelming.” 

Brienne swallowed. “I guessed as much.” 

“Families, eh?” Tyrion smiled. 

Brienne’s smiled wavered, and she turned her head. Tyrion’s grin instantly disappeared and a worried frown materialised in its wake. “I’m sorry, I forgot. Please forgive my stupidity.” 

Brienne nodded and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. It’s just that… I guess I’m still not used to admitting to myself that they’re all gone now.” 

“I am so sorry, Brienne,” Tyrion said in a soft voice. “I never… I never should have said anything. Please forgive me?” He placed a gentle hand on her arm while Brienne furiously blinked the unshed tears from her eyes. 

“Of course I forgive you,” she answered, giving him a shaky smile. 

Tyrion squeezed her arm in sympathy and gave her another reassuring smile. “Well, I suppose we have delayed long enough. Time to face the inquisition!” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. He took a final drag on his cigarette and ground it roughly beneath his shoe. “Shall we?” he said, gesturing to the large front door. Brienne nodded and stepped resolutely up to the house. She reached out to knock, but before she could the door was ripped open to reveal the flushed face of the young blonde girl Brienne had seen at the hospital. 

“Uncle Tyrion!” she squealed, dragging the door open to admit their entrance. “You took _so long_! I thought you were going for a _quick_ walk!” 

“You should know by now that I never do anything quickly,” laughed Tyrion, who followed Brienne into the house. “But we’re here now, so the party can finally get started!” 

The girl grinned and then shyly held out her hand to Brienne. “Hello, I’m Myrcella,” she said in a voice as sweet as honey. 

Brienne smiled and shook her delicate hand as if it was made of glass. “Brienne. It’s lovely to meet you.” 

The girl blushed prettily. Why can't I blush like that? “Tommen and I have been so excited to meet you properly,” continued Mrycella in her sing-song voice. “I can’t believe you’re going to be our auntie!” 

Brienne's embarrassment coiled round her throat and she found that she had no words with which to reply. Fortunately Myrcella was at the height of excitement and didn't require an answer. Instead, she quickly grabbed Brienne’s free hand and dragged her deeper into the house towards the living room. 

When they reached it, Brienne was astounded by what she saw. The floors were lined with thick, plush carpets that were the colour of fresh clotted cream, beautifully offset by warm, red walls that were infrequently adorned with large gilded mirrors and abstract art pieces. Large crystal light fixtures added to the feeling of opulence, and on the far side of a room was a large, roaring fire that lent the room an element of cosiness. By the large windows (which were, of course, hung with heavy velvet crimson curtains) stood a magnificent tree, which put her own damaged specimen to shame. It was littered with hundreds of delicate glass ornaments and filigree touches, and perched on the top was a benevolent angel, who looked down on the scene below with a serene smile. 

After taking in the full impact of the room, which made Brienne even more conscious about her old, worn clothes, she began to take stock of the people within it. Robert was lounging on an ornate settee that was covered with plump cream cushions, and opposite sat his wife, whose attire almost matched the crimson of curtains. A little boy sat playing on the floor between them, his golden curls highlighted by the glowing fire. 

“Mum, Dad! Tyrion and Brienne are here!” gushed Myrcella, who dragged a very unwilling Brienne right into the middle of the room. 

The beautiful woman rose gracefully from her seat and sashayed over to Brienne. “Oh darling! You didn’t even take their coats!” she accosted her daughter, before taking Brienne’s cold hands between her own manicured ones. Instinctively, Brienne felt her gesture to be false. “It’s so nice to meet you _properly_ ,” the lady crooned. “I am Cersei, and you are most welcome to our humble house.” Her rouged lips curled into a fake smile, and Brienne gathered that her shabby appearance had not gone unnoticed. Glancing at Tyrion by her side, she saw that he was frowning with irritation. 

Fortunately, Brienne was spared from more of Cersei’s niceties by Robert, who leapt from the settee and wrapped two huge arms around Brienne, almost crushing her plant in the process. “So good to have you here with the family!” he boomed. “Stannis!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Where the hell are you?” Brienne winced at the sound but tried to smile as she carefully placed her plant on a nearby table for safekeeping. She then felt a little tug on her jeans, and noticed the little boy smiling up at her. 

“Are you my new auntie?” he asked in a sweet, shy voice. 

_Errrr..._ Brienne dodged the question by kneeling down and shaking his hand. “I’m Brienne,” she said simply. “You must be Tommen.” The little boy nodded his head and treated her to a warm smile. “Do you want to see my fire truck?” he asked. Brienne smiled and nodded. _Well, at least the children seem to like me._

She was just admiring Tommen’s toy when the room became even more crowded with the entrance of Stannis and what appeared to be his family. Brienne stood up awkwardly to receive Stannis’ firm, dry handshake. He gestured to the thin, rod-straight woman standing behind him. “This is my wife Selyse,” he introduced in a gruff voice. “And this,” his voice softened almost imperceptibly, “is my daughter Shireen.” 

At first, Brienne couldn’t see who he was referring to, but then she noticed a young girl who had half of her face mottled by the ravages of some childhood disease. The girl was obviously very timid and she approached Brienne tentatively. Brienne recognised her as a kindred spirit and treated her to her warmest smile. “Hello there, I’m Brienne,” she said in her most gentle voice. The girl smiled shyly but was only able to look up briefly before returning her gaze to the floor. 

The room was now echoing with the voices of the large gathering and Brienne suddenly found a large glass of red wine being pressed into her hands. “Drink this, you’ll need it!” whispered Tyrion conspiratorially. Brienne smiled in thanks and took a few tentative sips, allowing the warm spice of the wine to calm her thudding heart. The family gradually re-arrayed themselves among the scattered chairs and Brienne found herself ensconced on a settee next to Tommen and Shireen. They;d only just settled down when Myrcella suddenly leapt up and yelled “Presents!” which caused the children beside her to twitch in excitement. 

Myrcella flew to the tree and began to distribute a mountain of gifts to all of the assembled people. Brienne was content to sit back and sip her wine when she suddenly found herself face-to-face with Myrcella. “And this one’s for you,” said the girl softly. “From Father Christmas,” she added with a cheeky grin. Brienne sat in complete astonishment as a brightly-wrapped gift was placed gently in her lap. Unbidden, a few tears formed in her eyes – it was her first and only present, and she felt so deeply touched by the family’s kindness in ensuring that she would not be left out. 

Hugging the present close to her chest as if it was her most precious possession, Brienne watched in a haze of happiness as the family tore open their gifts and laughed and exclaimed over the contents. _So this is what a family feels like. Not perfect by any means, but they’re together._

Settling back in her seat and enjoying the scene, Brienne noticed two lone gifts still lying under the tree. She caught Myrcella’s eye and nodded at them. “Who are they for?” she questioned. 

Myrcella pulled a face. “One of them is for my brother Joff, but he’s decided to go to Bali with his friends for Christmas.” Her face lifted slightly. “And the other one is for Uncle Jaime.” 

“Oh!” Brienne said in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting yet more family members – there were already so many packed into the luxurious room. “And where is your uncle?” 

“He’s late,” answered Mrycella very dejectedly. “He’s very busy.” 

Brienne’s head snapped round as Cersei let out a derisive snort. “A poor excuse,” she muttered bitterly. 

Brienne noticed that Tyrion was frowning again. “He said he’d come, Cersei. You know what Father’s like – he probably sent him off somewhere at the last minute.” 

Cersei drained her glass of wine. “We’ll see,” she replied. Tyrion frowned again but said no more for now. Brienne wanted to question him, but her attention was immediately distracted by Tommen and Shireen who wanted her to admire their new toys. 

*** 

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of wine and wrapping paper, and Brienne found that she had even begun to enjoy herself a little, although she was unfortunate enough to sit next to a reticent Selyse for dinner. The trouble started when she wanted to go home. 

“Home? It’s too late to go home now, girl!” cried Robert when Brienne suggested that it was time for her to phone for a taxi. “You may as well stay the night – we have plenty of room.” 

Brienne tried to refuse and insist on calling a taxi, but then Myrcella threw herself behind her father. “You haven’t met Uncle Jaime yet!” she cried. “He’ll be here soon, I’m sure, so you must stay!” 

“I don’t think he’s coming, chicken,” Robert replied in an unexpectedly fatherly way. But Mrycella merely crossed her arms and gave him a defiant look. “He promised,” she stated flatly. “Please stay, Brienne,” she added, giving Brienne a pleading look. Brienne sighed and eventually gave in. _It would be a nightmare trying to get a taxi anyway_. Myrcella crowed in victory and enveloped Brienne in a mighty hug. Brienne felt flattered by her joy even while embarrassment at imposing on the family coursed through her. 

At a ridiculously late hour that was well past her sensible week night bedtime, Brienne was led to a fair-sized spare bedroom on the second floor of the house. She flopped down onto the downy bedding with an exhausted sigh. She knew she should feel guilty for all she had said and done this evening, but worryingly, these feelings had started to retreat to the back of her mind. She shook her head violently – it would be so easy to make herself believe that she really _was_ Renly’s fiancée and that she belonged here, but she couldn’t, she _mustn’t_ lose sight of the fact that she was an imposter. However, Brienne was well aware that the whole act had gone too far. 

Sighing heavily, she decided to chase her worries away with sleep, but tired as she was, she couldn’t rest. Instead, she settled down to listen to the unfamiliar sounds of the house. A few floorboards above her creaked as the rest of the family went to bed, and some pipes whistled from one of the bathrooms. Brienne hadn’t lived with anybody for a long time, and the noises that accompanied a house full of people jarred on her nerves. 

Eventually, she must have dozed off, for she was shocked awake by the sound of the front door slamming shut. The noise was soon followed the by sound of scampering feet, which shot down the stairs from the third floor and onto the landing by Brienne’s door. Brienne’s curiosity was piqued, so she sat up to better hear what was going on. 

“Uncle Jaime!” The words were whispered but the voice was easily identifiable as Myrcella’s. From the excitement in her voice, Brienne deduced that the longed-for arrival of Renly’s other brother-in-law had finally come. There was no immediate answer to Myrcella, but Brienne picked up the sound of someone walking up the stairs to meet her. Finally, she heard a soft, masculine voice creep out of the darkness. 

“What are you doing up?” the man Brienne assumed was Jaime asked. 

“I knew you’d come so I thought I’d wait up,” gushed Myrcella. 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry I’m so late ‘Cella. I got held up at work – did I miss anything exciting?” 

Myrcella giggled. “Nope. Daddy got a bit drunk and started singing again, but you’ve seen him do that before.” 

“Too many times before!” laughed Jaime. “How is your Uncle Renly?” he asked in a more serious voice. 

“He’s still asleep,” murmured Mrycella sadly. “The doctors don’t know if he will wake up.” 

“I’m sorry,” replied Jaime after a pause. 

Myrcella sighed. “At least you’re here now.” 

“Yes… although I was just going to drop off your gifts and go home. I’m almost dead on my feet.” 

Myrcella gasped. “Oh no! You must stay! Tommen will be so upset! And you haven’t met Brienne.” 

“Brienne? Oh yes… Renly’s fiancée. Is she staying here as well?” 

Brienne suddenly felt a shiver go down her spine at the mention of her name. The almost derogatory way this man Jaime said the word ‘fiancée’ implied that he disbelieved the title, which gripped Brienne’s heart in fear. She fervently began to hope that Jaime would decline the invitation to stay, thereby allowing her some peace. But, of course, nothing ever went her way. 

“Hmmm… yes, I think I will stay,” he mused. 

Inside her room, Brienne stifled a groan of utter frustration. 

“Thank you!” cooed Myrcella. “Come on, I’ll show you to the spare room – you’re lucky there’s room. Uncle Stannis, Auntie Selyse and Shireen are here, too.” 

“Oh God, are they?” groaned Jaime. 

“Don’t be rude Uncle,” Myrcella chided. Slowly, their footsteps died away as Myrcella led Jaime upstairs, and Brienne was able to breathe again. She began to think frantically – _I mustn’t meet him… He sounds suspicious and I won’t be able to deal with that in front of EVERYONE. Oh God!_

Thinking quickly, Brienne reached out for her phone and set her alarm to a ridiculous time in the morning. Hopefully she could get up early and sneak out without anyone noticing. She could leave a note saying she had to work to excuse her rude exit. 

Feeling satisfied now she had a plan of escape in place, Brienne settled back down in her bed and tried desperately to get some sleep.


	5. The meet cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne meets Jaime - and it doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They meet! Finally! I'm afraid it's not yet love and cuddles though...

The house was still heavy with sleep when Brienne rose in the bleak light of dawn. Fumbling around the strange room, she managed to gather up her meagre belongings and phone a taxi to come and pick her up as soon as possible.

Not wanting to stay a second longer than was necessary, Brienne decided to wait outside for the impending arrival of her getaway vehicle. She cracked open her door and looked tentatively down the corridor. As far as she could tell, there was no one else but herself awake at this ungodly hour. 

She began to descend the stairs achingly slowly, wishing that she were smaller and lighter so that she would not disturb the floorboards underneath the rich carpet quite so much. As she went down, she fixed her eyes on the sweetest sight she could imagine – the front door. After what seemed like an age, she finally reached the last step and sagged with relief. 

“So you’re Renly’s wench?” 

The voice caused Brienne to spin round in a mad panic, her heart thundering loudly in her ears. She soon saw the owner of the voice – he had evidently been lurking in the corridor that led to the kitchen, but he was now leaning insouciantly against the banister of the stairs as his eyes raked her up and down. Brienne felt her face turning to a familiar beetroot colour - not only had she been caught, but Jaime was not at all like she expected. 

She had supposed that he would have the same blond hair as his siblings, and perhaps the green eyes of his sister, but never in a million years had she expected someone so arresting. His hair was a rich golden colour that hung in tousled ‘just out of bed’ waves that reached his broad shoulders. His skin was bronzed and brought out the colour of his dancing emerald eyes, which were currently sparkling in amusement at her predicament. Overall, his face and body resembled that of models usually seen in upmarket men’s magazines – he had high cheekbones, a strong jaw and he was tall, perhaps only a couple of inches below Brienne’s towering figure. 

He shifted to fold his arms over his chest, and it was then that Brienne realised that his right arm must have been missing a hand as the sleeve of his shirt hung empty at the wrist. Brienne realised with a jolt that she had been staring and glanced hurriedly away, but not before Jaime noticed where she had been looking. A little self-consciously, he uncrossed his arms and pushed his right limb behind him, a frown flitting across his perfect features. Embarrassment coursed through Brienne and she cursed her very obvious rudeness. A heavy silence now hung in the air, and she desperately wracked her brain to find something to say. 

“You must be Jaime,” she said stupidly, instantly cursing her stuttering voice. In the periphery of her vision she saw his grin become, if possible, even wider. 

“The one and only,” he confirmed after a pause. “I know you must have been excited to meet me, but that’s no reason to get up at the crack of dawn. Or perhaps you wanted to beat Tommen and Myrcella to the presents?” 

Brienne flushed at his arrogance and shot him an exasperated look. “I’m not a child and why would I get up to meet you?” she snapped, a little more roughly than she intended. _Dammit, I wish I was more of a morning person._

“You didn’t want to meet me? That’s a bit harsh,” Jaime replied, raising an eyebrow and putting on a hurt expression. 

“No!” gasped Brienne in embarrassment. “I mean, no, of course I wanted to meet you, but…” Jaime began to smile devilishly at her, relishing the way Brienne was tripping over her words in her haste to make herself understood. Realising that he was laughing at her, Brienne abruptly slammed her mouth shut and resorted to glaring at him for increasing her discomfort. 

“So where might you be off to? Bit of a poor show to sneak off while everyone is still asleep,” he questioned, slowly moving round the stairs to stand in front of her. 

Brienne scowled at him. “I have work. It’s not my fault. At least I was here last night when I was supposed to be.” 

Jaime sucked in his breath in mock injury. “Oh that’s harsh, wench. You wound me.” 

Brienne snorted. “I very much doubt it. And my name is Brienne, not ‘wench’.” 

Jaime grinned again. “Of course… So, when did you and Renly get together?” 

Brienne felt all the blood in her face abruptly disappear, and she floundered underneath Jaime’s critical gaze. 

“You’re a bit tall for him, aren’t you?” he continued, casting an evaluating gaze over Brienne’s figure. 

“Height doesn’t matter,” Brienne retorted angrily, hating the way he was looking at her and judging her. 

“Hmm… perhaps not,” Jaime conceded. “And you’re quite manly for a woman. But then Renly never did seem to like _feminine_ traits.” 

Anger coursed red and hot through Brienne’s veins once again as the insults sank into her. Worse still, Jaime seemed to be enjoying riling her up, which only made her angrier. 

Brienne took a step nearer to him and drew herself up to her full height in an attempt at intimidation. Close up, she could pick up the subtle, appealing scent of the cologne Jaime was wearing, the smell of which Brienne couldn’t help but appreciate. Gathering herself together in an attempt to dispel the disorienting effect this annoying man was having on her, Brienne fixed her eyes with his. “You don’t know anything about our… relationship, or me for that matter,” she huffed. “And you can insult me all you like – I’ve heard it all before.” 

Just then Brienne heard the welcome sound of a car horn hooting outside. Her taxi had arrived. With relief, she headed towards the door and tried to open it. It wouldn’t budge. She huffed in frustration and rattled the door again. 

“It’s locked, you know. That’s what sensible people do when they go to bed – they lock the front door.” 

Brienne seethed at the smug sound of his voice, but she made an effort to calm herself. “And where is the key?” she asked, turning back to his infuriating smile. 

“Oh, I’m not sure…” he answered, putting on a mock apologetic smile. 

Brienne rolled her eyes and prayed for patience. “You must know where the key is – this is your sister’s house!” 

“Perhaps I do, perhaps I don’t…” he replied, moving to lean nonchalantly against the banister again. 

Brienne grunted in frustration as the taxi horn sounded again. In a few more minutes her taxi would leave and she would be trapped in here – with _him_. “Look – get me the key or…” Brienne trailed off, realising that she was threatening a member of the family she had been ingratiating herself to. 

Jaime’s eyes lit up at her suggestion. “Or you’ll do what?” he murmured in a low voice, his jade eyes sparkling. 

Brienne fumed at him, hating the way he was manipulating her into losing her temper. Instead of rising to the bait, she strode purposefully past him and into the kitchen. _There must be a key hanging up somewhere,_ she reasoned, scanning her desperate eyes around the enormous modern kitchen. She turned when she heard a chuckling behind her. Jaime had evidently followed her in. 

“Looking for these?” He held up a bunch of keys in his left hand and rattled them as one would a toy to a small dog. 

Brienne reached out to snatch them from his hand, but Jaime’s reactions were lightning fast and he dodged her clumsy attempt. “Give them to me!” Brienne hissed, her irritation rising to new heights. 

“No, I don’t think I will,” he teased, moving away from her. 

“What are you, six years old? Give them to me!” Brienne repeated, her voice beginning to rise. 

“Now, now. We wouldn’t want to wake the others up, would we?” he cautioned, raising a finger to his lips. 

Brienne scowled and then launched herself at him, relying on her size and strength to gain what she wanted. To her irritation, Jaime laughed and continued to dodge her efforts. “I’m a cripple, you know, you should be careful with me!” he crowed as Brienne grabbed his arm and tried to wrench the keys from his hand. However, he was stronger than she first realised and he fought back, causing the pair of them to begin a rough and ready wrestling match that careered them around the kitchen, knocking over various pots, pans and bowls of fruit in the process. 

Jaime laughed and wriggled out of her grasp for the umpteenth time, holding the keys aloft and just out of reach. In desperation, Brienne leaned over him, her fingers scrabbling for the keys that he was somehow still managing to keep control of. Suddenly he ducked under her arm and whirled her round so that she was corned against a kitchen counter, using his right arm to provide a block across her body so that she couldn’t use her arms to push him away. 

“Just give me the keys! I have to go to work!” Brienne snarled at him, but she was merely met with yet more irrepressible laughter. Her rage then reached new heights, which fired her muscles. Grunting with effort, she managed to push his arm away from her and sent him backwards. Quick as a knife, Brienne grabbed his left arm and placed it into a firm arm lock, successfully wresting the keys from his hand. Having achieved her goal, she abruptly released him and stood huffing and puffing, well aware that she was probably very red in the face and dishevelled to boot. Jaime was also a little breathless, and Brienne suddenly became very aware of how closely they were standing together and how, just a minute ago, they had been tangled up together. The thought caused yet more blood to settle in her face. 

“Well played, wench,” Jaime conceded, nodding his head in acknowledgement of her victory while running his good hand through his mussed up hair. 

Brienne scowled at his use of ‘wench’ and stormed past him to the front door. After a few unsuccessful attempts with the wrong keys, Brienne finally found the one that unlocked the front door. Tossing the keys back to Jaime, she wrenched open the door. 

“Wench!” 

Brienne stopped abruptly and turned to look back at the infuriating being that was Jaime. 

“What I said earlier about you and Renly… I didn’t mean it of course,” he said, contrition seemingly writ plain on his features. “After all, they do say love is blind.” 

Brienne growled in anger and rushed out of the door, the sound of his mocking laughter echoing in her ears as she made her way out to the thankfully still-waiting taxi. 

_Let’s hope that is the first and last time I ever see him. Perhaps it’s just as well that I’m not really marrying Renly, otherwise I would have to see him at family gatherings…_ Sinking into her seat in the taxi, Brienne slowly reached into her bag and pulled out the present she had received last night. It was a thick woollen jumper, sky blue in colour. It felt soft and warm in her hands, but it was also comforting in that it symbolised affection and belonging. Cradling it against her chest, Brienne watched the world pass by her window and indulged in her favourite daydream where she was surrounded by Renly's family – minus that idiot Jaime – and was completely at home with them, secure in the knowledge that she belonged. _It’s all a fantasy_ , she tried to reason, but she couldn’t help herself, so she continued to picture her dream life all the way home back to her lonely flat.


	6. A red rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne is desperate to confess the truth, there's another clash with Jaime, and Renly's family learn something surprising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a nice long chapter for you. This provides a bit more insight into Brienne's character, but there are also some lighter/funnier moments involving our favourite blonde, green-eyed man.
> 
> Enjoy!

“What’s the matter?”

Pod's concerned voice finally drew Brienne’s thoughts from where they had been brooding nearly all day. She looked up reluctantly and gave her friend a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Pod. I’m just having a bad day.” 

Pod frowned and moved to sit in the chair next to Brienne. They were in the staff room on one of their long-awaited lunch breaks, and mercifully the room was absent of other people. Brienne turned her gaze back to her half-eaten sandwich, but she could still feel Pod’s worried eyes on her. 

“Come on, Brienne, you can tell me! You’ve been acting weird since Christmas,” he said, his concern still very evident. 

Brienne sighed and sat back in her chair. “I can’t, Pod. I’ve just messed everything up, that’s all.” She sighed heavily again and raised her eyes to the cheap plastic tiling that lined the ceiling, as if expecting an answer to her problems to be written there. 

Pod wasn’t happy with her attempts to deflect the question and his frown deepened. “Messed what up?” he queried. “I know you, Brienne; you don’t mess things up on purpose. I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you make out.” 

Brienne groaned. “No, it _really_ is, Pod. I have absolutely no idea what I should do.” 

“God, Brienne!” he cried with exasperation. “Just tell me! Maybe I can help?” 

Brienne glanced at Pod’s earnest face and took a deep breath. “OK, fine! But you mustn’t tell anyone, alright?” Pod nodded seriously, his eyes round like saucers. “So…” Brienne began, although she really had no idea how to explain what had happened. “You know that guy I saved from the train? Well… there was a _bit_ of a mix-up at the hospital and now his family think I’m his fiancée…” 

Pod spluttered. “His what?!” 

“I know! I know! It sounds stupid, but it _happened_ and the family believed it, and now they’ve accepted me as part of the family…” 

“You mean you didn’t correct them?” Pod exclaimed, his disbelief clearly showing. 

Brienne felt her cheeks getting warm. “I have tried… or at least I have thought about trying,” she said defensively, “but I just can’t find the right time, and if I told them now it would just add to all of the stress they’re already going through.” 

“Oh Brienne,” Pod sighed. “You should have told them straightaway.” 

“I know,” she replied softly, her guilt making her unable to look her friend in the eye. 

Pod took a deep breath and ran his hand through his messy crop of hair. “Well, I can’t lie to you. That’s one hell of a mess.” Brienne grimaced and buried her burning face in her hands. “But I suppose you’ve come this far,” he continued in attempt to comfort her. “Perhaps it would be kinder to stay quiet now until the guy wakes up. You never know, they may understand you meant it as a kindness.” 

“But what if he doesn’t wake up?” whispered Brienne fearfully through her fingers. 

“He will, I’m sure,” said Pod firmly. 

Brienne smiled weakly at her friend. “Thanks Pod,” she murmured. Pod smiled back, but she could see that he thought her situation was pretty hopeless. _Only you could get yourself into a situation like this. You know perfectly well that there is no way out of this screwed up mistake without hurting anyone. Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Brienne shook her head to quiet her inner monologue. “Time to get back to work,” she stated flatly, and before Pod could say anything else, she quickly left the room. 

*** 

Brienne stood in front of the now-familiar doors of the hospital and took a deep, steadying breath. If they’re there - I’ll tell them. I’ll tell them everything. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she stepped through the doors and trudged her way to Renly’s room. To her guilty relief, she found it empty of his family. 

Soothed by the quiet and the rhythmic whirrs and beeps of the equipment, Brienne perched herself on her usual chair by the bedside. Leaning forward, she examined Renly’s face and fancied that she saw a little more colour there. 

“I guess you’re wondering why I’m back again,” she murmured, the urge to speak and confess finally getting the better of her. “Well, I suppose I should really introduce myself. My name is Brienne, and I work in the ticket office at the tube station. Umm… your family thinks we’re engaged. I know, it’s ridiculous, but I thought you had better know. It came as a bit of a shock to me, too. 

“What else? Well, there’s not that much about me to know, really. I live in a one-bed flat on my own. It’s pretty small but cosy enough. I spend most of my evenings watching stupid rom-coms and dreaming of places I’d like to go one day. I have some nice friends, but no family. Most of the time, there’s just me. 

“My dad died a while back. He was the last of my family, and we were so close. ‘Thick as thieves’ is what he used to say. We didn’t do anything particularly special together - just normal father and daughter stuff - but it was special for me because he was my dad and I loved him. 

“Coming here to this hospital has kinda brought all the sad memories back. I spent so many hours sitting by his bedside as he gradually got sicker and sicker and began to fade away right before my eyes. My dad had always been big, and tall, taller than me if you can believe it, but as he got worse he seemed to shrink until the bedcovers hung over his limp frame like a shroud. I watched it happen all by myself, and it was a burden because I had no one to share it with. I know that sounds terrible, to call sitting with my father a burden, but it’s the truth. It’s hard to watch someone you love go through that by yourself. 

“The worst thing about losing your family is that there is no one left to share memories with, and all the private jokes and little routines you used to have just disappear because they need to be shared. I can tell other people all the stories of my childhood and the funny adventures I went on with my dad, but no one will really _understand_ those stories because you had to be there. You don’t know how sad it is to not be able to say ‘Hey, do you remember that time…?’. The story is dead, just like the person I made the memory with. 

“I know that when you wake up you are probably going to hate me, just as your family will. I’ve lied, and I let that lie continue because I was too weak to stop it. I want you to know that I’m sorry for that, but I’m not sorry for getting to be a part of your family, even for a little while. You have a wonderful family, and it’s clear that they love you very much. You’re very lucky for having that. So I am really sorry for what I’ve done, but I hope that one day you can all forgive a lonely young woman who just wanted to feel like she was a part of something for a while.” 

Brienne stopped, her voice hitching in her throat as it constricted with sobs. She felt the burden of what she’d done lift slightly, but the sense of what she could lose with her confession completely overwhelmed her. As she abandoned herself to her tears, she failed to hear the soft footsteps of Tyrion as he slowly withdrew from the doorway and disappeared down the corridor, a sad, puzzled expression resting upon his face. 

*** 

After sitting for a couple of hours with no sign of Renly’s family, Brienne decided that she had risked being in the hospital for long enough. She was tired, and the thought of flopping on the sofa at home was becoming irresistible. 

She was just making her way down the corridor when a tall, slim man with tousled chestnut hair passed her. He stopped suddenly upon seeing her and reached out a hand to stop her weary progress. 

“Are you… Renly’s _fiancée?_ ” he questioned in a soft, hurt voice. 

Brienne groaned inwardly, wondering whether to extend the lie to yet another stranger. Fortunately, he didn’t give her much time to reply. 

“I can’t believe it… I really can’t,” he continued. “I suppose he hasn’t even mentioned me, has he?” 

Brienne looked wearily at the young man. “No. I’m sorry but I have no idea who you are.” 

The man snorted with derision. “Of course, I can’t say I’m surprised… it all went wrong after he got that damned tattoo done.” 

Brienne blinked in confusion. “Tattoo?” 

“Yes! That tattoo! It wasn’t my idea, it was all his. I mean, why would I want him to get a giant rose tattooed on his arse? It’s stupid.” 

Brienne felt a huge blush creep over her cheeks. “Er, yes… very stupid,” she replied weakly. 

“Well, it obviously meant nothing, despite what he said at the time,” the man scoffed. “I hope you two will be very _happy_ together,” he seethed. “Oh, and tell him I want Margaery back.” 

Brienne gaped at him in surprise and confusion, but before she could say anything else, the man spun on his heel and marched towards the exit. 

She stood for a moment in the dreary corridor pondering the strange conversation, and especially the identity of ‘Margaery’, but eventually her desire for her sofa won out and she trailed over to the lifts. 

“Mrs Baratheon!” 

Brienne ignored the shout and pressed the lift button, dimly watching the floor numbers as the lift rose to receive her. 

“Mrs Baratheon!” 

This time, the cry was accompanied by a touch on her arm, and she spun round in confusion. A young orderly was standing behind her clasping a large cardboard box in his chapped hands. “Mrs Baratheon, I have your husband’s things,” he explained, extending his load towards her. 

Brienne groaned. “He’s not my husband!” she cried, her irritation shining through. 

Slightly cowed, the orderly backed away a little. “Oh… I mean, I have your fiancé’s things,” he amended, and abruptly shoved the box into her arms and scurried up the corridor. Brienne grunted in annoyance and hefted the box into the lift, her desperation for some peace and quiet reaching fever pitch. 

Once back in her cramped but homely flat, Brienne dumped the box down onto her small table. _I guess I shall just have to look after it until he wakes up_ , she reasoned, padding wearily over to her kitchen to make a much-needed cup of tea. Brew in hand, Brienne cautiously looked into the top of the box. Before she could stop herself, she reached out a tremulous hand and gently ran her fingers over the clothes neatly folded inside. The collar of Renly’s shirt still had a faint mark where the blood from his head injury had trickled down and soaked in. Brienne softly ran her finger over the mark as the memories of his unconscious form trickled through her mind. 

She knew she should have stopped there - she had no right to rifle through his things - but her curiosity simply got the better of her. With reverence, she began to tenderly lay the contents of the box onto the table. Under his coat Brienne found what were evidently the contents of his pockets – a small bunch of keys jangled on her palm, followed by the sleek fold of his wallet. Brienne touched everything reverentially, but then guilt overwhelmed her. _These are not your things! They are nothing to you!_ With a great force of will, she abruptly turned away from the box and marched into her bedroom to get some much-needed rest. 

*** 

The morning dawned wet and drizzly – typical weather for a weekend in London. As Brienne trudged out of her room to fix herself with a decent hit of caffeine she was unable to avoid the sight of the emptied contents of the box. It looked so alien in her tiny room that she instantly resolved to pack it away and put it out of sight. She was roughly bunching up the clothes and Renly’s other personal items when she spied a rough paper bag crumpled right at the bottom of the box. Her curiosity was piqued once again so she plunged her hand in to pull out the bag. Something was inside it, so she extended her hand and carefully tipped out the contents. A tin of cat food rolled out. 

Brienne stood and contemplated the tin for a few moments as her fuzzy morning brain computed the facts. Slowly, realisation dawned - Renly obviously had a pet and the poor thing probably hadn’t been fed in days. Brienne hastily snatched up Renly’s wallet and checked the address on his driver’s licence before grabbing the keys to his home along with the cat food. As she went out of the door she threw on her old coat and tumbled down the stairs. She just hoped the poor thing had been able to fend for itself over the last few days; otherwise she would have to add a dead cat to her list of confessions to make. 

*** 

A short while after Brienne had begun her dash to the tube station to get to Renly’s home a shiny red Porsche pulled up in front of her block of scabby flats. Turning off the ignition, Jaime looked up at the unfriendly building and checked the address he had scrawled on a piece of paper. _Perhaps Tyrion misheard where Brienne lived?_ But no, the address was correct, so Jaime flung open the door and ambled over to the front of the building where the list of residents was hung up. Only surnames were given, and Jaime had no idea what the wench’s last name was. He was about to randomly start pressing numbers and annoying the residents when he heard a cough behind him. 

“Can I help?” said a suspicious voice. Jaime turned and was confronted by a small, hairy and unkempt looking man. In an attempt at intimidation, the man put his hands firmly on his rotund hips. 

Jaime smiled easily. “Yes, perhaps you can. I don’t suppose you know Brienne?” 

“Brienne!” the man exclaimed. “’Course I do. I’m _dating_ her,” he added, pausing to pull his trousers up. 

Jaime’s eyebrows rose well into his hairline as he observed the peculiar specimen in front of him. “Is that so?” he questioned. “And how long have you been together?” 

The man in front of him puffed with pride. “Since she moved in. I own the place, ya know?” He curled his lips in a sneer. “Girls like a man with _property_ ,” he added, carefully annunciating the word ‘property’ as if he was speaking to an idiot. 

“So it would seem…” Jaime murmured. “Well, I’m sorry to have troubled you, Mr…?” 

“Hunt, Hyle Hunt,” replied the man with authority. 

“Mr Hunt. Thank you for your information.” Jaime turned and walked back to his car, his mind wrestling with the knowledge he had just received. If it was true, then his suspicions about Brienne and Renly not knowing each other very well were on the mark. Perhaps Renly had finally had enough of Robert's nagging about his seemingly permanent bachelor status so had somehow cajoled a compliant woman to pretend to be engaged to him? He smiled to himself as he seated himself back in the car – he could have some fun with this. He’d rather enjoyed himself the other day as she’d fought him to get out of the house. Most people were wise to his attempts to rile them up, but this tall, gangly, awkward woman was fresh meat, and she’d reacted rather brilliantly. Yes, he’d enjoy seeing how far he could push her. 

Jaime was about to start the car when his phone buzzed. “Hi Tyrion,” he answered. 

“Did you offer Brienne a lift to the hospital?” Tyrion asked with no preamble. 

“No… she wasn’t home,” he lied, his eyes flicking back to Hyle Hunt, who was still standing possessively in front of the block of flats. 

“She must have already left then,” concluded Tyrion. “Well, seeing as you are already out and about, can you swing past Renly’s flat? Robert’s been fussing about his mail and what not.” 

Jaime groaned. “Why can’t he go himself?” 

“He’s _far_ too busy,” Tyrion replied with emphasis. 

Jaime sighed. “He can’t be drunk already - it’s nine in the morning.” Tyrion didn’t reply, so Jaime attempted to crush his irritation. “Fine, I’ll have a quick look round, although it will probably just be junk mail anyway.” 

“I know,” replied Tyrion soothingly, “but if it will make him stop prowling round the house like a bear then both I and the children will be relieved.” 

“Alright, I’ll head there now,” Jaime confirmed tersely and ended the call. 

*** 

Brienne cautiously unlocked the door to Renly’s flat and turned the handle. She opened the door warily and peered into the hallway. She felt like a complete intruder, so she had to remind herself that she was here for a good purpose – it wouldn’t do to leave a cat starving to death, especially if it was a beloved pet of Renly’s. 

Steeling herself, she opened the door wider and stepped through, closing the door softly behind her. The hallway was stark white in colour, with a plush, pristine ivory carpet lining the floor. Along the walls were various pieces of abstract art of the human form in muted, distant colours, which Brienne found unsettling and unappealing to say the least. She quickly padded through to the living area of the flat and registered that a definite minimalist theme was in place – blank white walls were sharply offset by black leather sofas, which faced each other in the middle of the wide, open-plan room. Beyond them stretched a wall of glass, giving a first class view over the bustling city, while along the opposite side was a gleaming chrome and marble kitchen, with not so much as a bowl of fruit to give even the slightest lift of colour. It all looked very expensive, but the overall result was cold and impersonal. If Brienne hadn’t had known for certain that Renly lived here, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that the flat even had an inhabitant. 

Brienne wandered timidly over to the sparkling kitchen and dumped her bag on one of the spotless counters. Her things looked old and shabby against the shining marble and served as a reminder of how alien she was in this environment. After rummaging through her bag, she dug out the tin of cat food and ripped off the lid. She couldn’t see a food bowl in the kitchen, so she began to prowl around the rest of the house. 

“Kitty?” she called out, peering around the sofas and underneath the cushions. “I’ve got food for you, kitty.” She heard no answering meow, so she moved across the room towards a door on the far side. It swung open to reveal a sort of utility room. She called out again, but she still saw no sign of the cat. She quickly checked the laundry basket to see if it could have hidden itself among the comfortable folds of clothes, but she still found nothing. Sighing, she decided to try and find the bedroom to see if the cat had ingratiated itself onto Renly’s bed. Turning back to the swinging door, she gave it a harder push than she intended. The door swung… and then it hit something. 

“Fucking hell!” 

*** 

“Oh god, oh god, I am _so sorry,_ ” Brienne gasped as she took in the sight of a very disgruntled Jaime, who was grimly clutching a growing bump on his head. 

“You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he muttered. 

“I didn’t know you were here! You startled me!” Brienne retorted. “I’ll grab you some ice…” Brienne zipped back into the kitchen and quickly located the ice dispenser on the fridge, chucking icecubes haphazardly onto a tea towel. _Good job Renly has a fancy kitchen_. Timidly, she offered the makeshift ice pack to Jaime, who took it from her with a sour look. 

“How did you get in here?” he asked, gingerly placing the cold tea towel against his head. 

“Keys,” replied Brienne simply. 

“Oh right… you must stay here a lot then?” he questioned, his eyes registering some confusion. 

Brienne tried to look nonchalant. “Well, not _that_ often… I just thought I’d pop round to feed the cat…” 

Bemusement flitted across Jaime’s face. “Renly doesn’t _have_ a cat.” 

Brienne felt herself go very still even as her heart began to pound furiously in her chest. Jaime was now eyeing her with a great deal of suspicion, but just as he was opening his mouth to say something, a faint tapping on the tiles of the kitchen came into hearing. 

“Meow?” 

Brienne turned and to her relief saw a rather large, grey Persian cat. It slunk over to her and she quickly scooped it up into her arms, taking the opportunity to glance at its collar as she did so. _Hm, at least I know who Margaery is now_. “Ooh you _poor_ kitty,” she crooned, giving Jaime a very satisfied smile as she cuddled the cat to her chest. “Poor little Margaery! You must have been so hungry!” 

Jaime was looking at the cat in complete bewilderment and for once seemed completely lost for words. Brienne ignored him and proceeded to place Margaery on the countertop alongside the tin of cat food. 

Still savouring her victory, Brienne turned to Jaime as the cat tucked in eagerly to its food. “How’s your head?” she asked casually, fighting to keep a smile off her face. 

“I’ll live,” he responded grumpily. 

They stood in silence for a moment before the shrill ring of the telephone cut through the quiet. Jaime eyed it as its display flashed repeatedly. “Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked after it continued to ring persistently. 

Brienne blushed. “Oh, no. I’ll let them leave a message.” 

Jaime quirked an eyebrow. “You’re sure? What if it’s important?” 

Brienne shrugged, but to her horror Jaime reached out and lifted the receiver, maintaining eye contact with her as he did so. “Hello?” he answered. Unbidden, Brienne silently acknowledged that he had a rather nice voice when he wasn’t using it to insult her. Nerves crackled within her as she saw his eyebrows rise in surprise at whatever was being said on the other end of the phone. Slowly, he pulled the phone away from his ear. “It’s for you,” he stated in a bemused voice. 

Brienne was even more surprised than him, but she tried to mask it as best she could. Nervously, she took the phone from him and held it to her ear. “Hello?” she said, trying desperately to sound normal. 

“Oh hello Ms Tarth. This is the hospital. Nothing to worry about at all, and I’m very sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you would like to come and give a blood donation? We like to encourage friends and family to give blood, just in case, and it boosts our reserves a bit.” 

“Oh!” she responded, almost sagging with relief that it wasn’t bad news. “Of course, I can come right now.” 

“Excellent! Thank you so much. It really means a lot.” 

“No problem, good bye.” Brienne hung up and reluctantly met Jaime’s quizzical gaze. “It was the hospital,” she explained. “Nothing’s wrong, but they are looking for blood donations.” 

Jaime grunted and gently felt the bruise on his head. “Alright then, I suppose I’d better come with you. I was meant to give you a lift to the hospital anyway.” 

“What? You were?” 

“Yeah, Tyrion sent me. I must have just missed you. I did have an interesting conversation with one of your neighbours though,” he added with a glint in his jade eyes. 

Brienne frowned, but she was prevented from questioning him further as he instantly strode from the room. “Come on wench!” she heard him call from the hallway. Grumbling, Brienne gathered up her things and trailed after him. 

*** 

Brienne had forgotten how much she hated needles. She looked around the room in an attempt to find something to distract herself, but unfortunately the room was very cramped and the only other thing of interest to look at was Jaime, who was sitting beside her while another nurse took blood from his arm. Annoyingly, he seemed unbothered by the process and therefore watched Brienne’s discomfort with great amusement. 

“So… you never told me when exactly you and Renly met?” he queried, his bright eyes boring into her. 

Brienne wracked her brains. “Last summer,” she replied hesitantly. 

Jaime nodded. “I see… you work fast!” 

Brienne scowled at him, the needle in her arm momentarily forgotten. “It wasn’t like that,” she huffed. 

“Oh, what was it like then?” he asked, his face an insufferable mask of pretended friendliness. Brienne chose to ignore him. 

“What’s his favourite colour?” 

“What?” Brienne’s eyes snapped back to his laughing ones. “What kind of question is that?” 

Jaime shrugged. “Just trying to make conversation - I thought you could do with the distraction,” he explained with a wide grin. 

Brienne gifted him with her best scowl, which only elicited a chuckle from him. 

“So, what is his favourite colour?” he asked again. 

Brienne rolled her eyes. “You already know what his favourite is.” 

Jaime’s grin spread wider. “You’re right, I do, but the question is, do _you_ know it?” 

Brienne shifted uncomfortably in the knowledge that she had absolutely no idea what Renly’s favourite colour was. After all, his flat had given absolutely no indication. Jaime looked as though he was about to press her for an answer when the nurse at Brienne’s elbow finally withdrew the needle. 

“All done, my dear. Now just sit quietly for a while. You’re going to feel woozy.” 

“I’m fine,” Brienne declared, and began to push herself up out of her seat. The room spun a little, but she found that she could just about weave her way towards the door. The nurse cried out behind her, but she ignored her. Dimly, she heard Jaime leaping up behind her, but a sudden crash made her look back. She had to smile at what she saw – Jaime was sprawled on the floor with both the nurses clucking over him. Brienne bit back a laugh and made a hasty retreat out of the room and to the lift. Unfortunately the damn thing took so long to reach her floor that she was joined by a slightly pale-looking Jaime before she could complete her escape. 

“You’re tougher than you look, wench,” he muttered, leaning heavily against the wall of the lift after the door had shut behind them. Brienne couldn’t help but grin smugly in return even though, truth be told, she still felt pretty giddy herself. 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” 

Brienne rolled her eyes in exasperation. “And I’m not going to. I don’t need distracting anymore.” 

The lift pinged open and Brienne wobbled out and down the corridor to Renly’s room, closely followed by Jaime, who seemed to have regained most of his equilibrium. 

“OK, let’s try another question. What’s his favourite music?” 

“Jazz,” Brienne replied without hesitation. Truthfully, she had no idea, but it happened to be her favourite music so she just said it. She glanced across at Jaime, who was looking a little annoyed – she’d obviously got the answer right. They’d finally reached Renly’s room and Brienne gratefully noted the presence of his family, who were evidently pretending to be unaware of the strict two-visitor rule. 

“Ah, Brienne! So my brother found you at last,” piped up Tyrion as she and Jaime entered the room. Brienne smiled at him, but was prevented from exchanging pleasantries by yet another question from Jaime. 

“What’s his favourite film?” 

Brienne spun to face him, letting her irritation show plainly on her face. “What’s with all the questions? Why do you want to know if I can remember Renly’s favourite colour or music?” she demanded, hoping she looked stronger than she felt. 

A sly expression slipped onto Jaime’s handsome features. “Oh it’s just that I was wondering how well you really know him...” 

Behind her, Brienne heard Cersei titter. Squaring her shoulders, she tried not to show the fear that was slowly creeping through her. Robert huffed, and to Brienne’s gratitude, rushed to her defence. 

“Now look here, Jaime. This is ridiculous. That’s her _fiancé_ lying there, and she shouldn’t have to justify herself to you, of all people,” he boomed, folding his arms across his large chest. 

“Hear, hear,” concurred Tyrion from her side. 

Jaime looked undeterred. “Oh I’m not trying to joke around. It’s just that I had a very interesting conversation with her _boyfriend_ today.” Tyrion looked horrified. “That’s really not funny Jaime,” he cautioned as Robert’s face began to take on a scarlet hue. Irritatingly, Jaime continued to smile at Brienne, waiting for her response. 

“My what?” she gasped. “I don’t have a boyfriend! Well, other than Renly, of course,” she amended, nodding in the unconscious man’s direction. 

“Yes you do. His name is Hyle Hunt,” Jaime responded, his smile stretching wider. 

Brienne spluttered with horror. “ _Hyle?_ You think Hyle is my boyfriend?” she laughed hysterically. 

Jaime’s eyes narrowed. “He told me you’d been dating since you moved into your flat, which I gather was some time ago.” 

“Yes, I live in the same block of flats, but that does _not_ mean I am going out with him! He just makes stuff up like that all the time!” Brienne cried. 

Suddenly Cersei spoke up. “Prove it.” 

Brienne turned to her aghast. “What?” she questioned feebly. 

Cersei smiled in a predatory way. “Prove that you really are Renly’s fiancée - if you can.” 

Silence now permeated the room as all eyes turned expectantly to her. Brienne’s brain began to go into overdrive as she frantically sought an acceptable answer. Suddenly, something pinged into her consciousness. 

“Renly has a tattoo of a red rose on his backside,” she announced. 

“What?!” roared Robert, his eyes bulging. Tyrion erupted into laughter alongside Tommen and Mrycella, while both Jaime and Cersei stared at Brienne in astonishment. Stannis remained stoically silent. 

“It’s true,” said Brienne with growing confidence. “You can check if you like.” 

Immediately all members of the family looked at one another, each hoping that someone would volunteer. 

“Robert or Stannis – you should check,” said Tyrion with great amusement. “After all, you’re his brothers.” 

“I’m not checking!” shrieked Robert. “It can’t be true anyway – Renly would never get a tattoo!” 

“Well we won’t know for sure until someone looks, will we?” replied Tyrion reasonably. “Stannis, perhaps you will do the honours?” All eyes now turned to Stannis, who looked as though he would rather swallow razor blades. However, he eventually nodded with great reluctance and moved towards the bed. Blushing, Brienne turned away with everyone else as Stannis raised the blanket covering Renly’s prone form. A few minutes lapsed, but then Stannis cleared his throat. 

“She’s right.”


	7. Blue and green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion confronts Brienne about her secret. She also gains a horrible sofa and comes to a terrible realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loooong chapter for you! I think this is my favourite, so I hope you enjoy it. I was hoping I'd have the time/artistic ability to make the paintings mentioned in this chapter, but alas!

Brienne just could not get rid of the blush that seemed to have taken a permanent hold of her cheeks. Even now, curled up on her sofa under the comfort of a blanket, she couldn’t shift it. She kept replaying the hideous awkwardness of the family waiting for her to reveal some solid evidence of her and Renly’s attachment, and then, _God_ , how her crazed, panicked brain had recalled the strange conversation she’d had in the hospital with that young man.

_Why the hell did I have to say THAT?_ It was so incredibly embarrassing, and now Renly’s entire family knew something about him that he probably didn’t wish them to know. Still, she had to admit that it had worked – Jaime’s mouth had slammed shut in astonishment, and after accepting all of their apologies, Brienne had managed to slink away to hide herself in her flat. She’d passed Hyle on the stairs and had given him a sour look that made him cry out in mock bewilderment. She’d ignored his protests of “What’s wrong with you? What have I done?” and disappeared into the sanctuary of her flat. However, a cup of tea and several biscuits ( _OK, a whole pack of biscuits_ ) hadn’t restored her equanimity and she found herself continually berating herself for what had happened. 

She was just contemplating getting a hot chocolate with a stiffening shot of rum when she heard an authoritative knock on her door. Groaning, she eased herself out of her warm nest on the sofa and trudged over to the door. She stifled a sound of surprise when she found Tyrion smiling on the doorstep. 

“Good evening!” he began cheerfully. “Sorry to call round unexpectedly, but I wanted to talk to you.” He smiled again and waited expectantly. 

Brienne eventually remembered her manners and opened the door wide enough so that Tyrion could step through. She immediately wished that she’d done some tidying up recently – her naturally cramped flat was currently even shabbier in appearance thanks to her clothes littering several surfaces. 

“Sorry for the mess,” she mumbled while she hastily pulled clothes off an armchair. “Would you like anything to drink?” 

“Tea would be lovely,” Tyrion answered as he made himself comfortable on her armchair. Brienne scrambled over to her little kitchen and searched for a clean mug. “You have a nice place here,” said Tyrion politely. “It’s very… homely.” 

“You mean small,” quipped Brienne. 

Tyrion laughed. “I believe estate agents call it ‘cosy’.” Brienne snorted in response and deposited a strong cup of tea into Tyrion’s hands before trying to make herself comfortable on the sofa under his mismatched gaze. Tyrion regarded with amusement the large Winnie the Pooh mug for a couple of seconds before smiling his thanks. 

“Sorry,” muttered Brienne. “It was the only clean mug I had.” 

“No need to apologise,” he grinned. “I rather like it.” Tyrion began to sip his tea while Brienne wriggled in her seat, wishing she had also made herself something to drink so that she had something to hold on to. After a pause Tyrion cleared his throat and set his tea firmly on an empty corner of the stained coffee table. 

“I’m afraid I have something to confess,” he began, keeping his eyes on Brienne’s as she looked back at him in acute confusion. “I was at the hospital the day you visited Renly and… told your story.” 

“Oh god,” Brienne breathed, her blood rushing in her ears. “I’ll tell them, I will. I’m so sorry, I shall tell them first thing tomorrow…” 

Tyrion raised a hand. “You’ll do nothing of the kind.” 

Brienne stuttered to a halt in surprise. “What? Why?” she questioned. 

Tyrion settled himself back into his seat and once again picked up his mug of tea. “Well, having you around has been a welcome distraction, especially for the children. They’ve all enjoyed spending time with you and it stops them thinking about what may happen to Renly.” 

Brienne stared at him. “But what will happen when he wakes up?!” 

Tyrion shrugged. “Well, the truth will have to come out I suppose, but by that point they will all be so happy and relieved that Renly is recovering that having you admit you kept the truth from them will not be such a big deal.” 

Brienne looked at him in disbelief. “But it _is_ a big deal,” she insisted. 

“Oh, if the worst comes to worst then you can just say that I talked into it. I’m related to them – they’ll forgive me eventually. And if they don't, it will be an excellent excuse to stay away from future family events.” 

Brienne continued to stare at him speechlessly. “Are you sure that this is the right thing to do? It feels wrong to me. It’s felt wrong this whole time.” 

“I’m positive,” Tyrion replied smoothly. “Besides, I also enjoy your company. You have broken up the monotony of family gatherings quite considerably.” 

“Monotony? How could it ever be monotonous?” 

A look of compassion flitted across Tyrion’s face and he smiled softly in understanding. “I suppose I should appreciate what I have,” he admitted. “Although a lifetime of my family would probably drain even the most appreciative person.” He quickly finished his tea and made to leave. “Thank you for the tea, Brienne, and the chat. I hope we know where we stand now?” he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

Brienne nodded dumbly and rose to show Tyrion to the door. Just as he was about to stride out, he paused and fixed her with his bright gaze again. “One moment… how did you know about that tattoo?” he asked with immense curiosity. 

Brienne blushed as she battled to find the words. Tyrion chuckled. “Hmmm perhaps I don’t want to know!” he conceded. “But it was a stroke of genius all the same. The look on Jaime’s face was priceless.” 

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” murmured Brienne sullenly. 

“Oh ignore him, he’s like that with everyone,” Tyrion replied dismissively. “He just likes to cause trouble. But I must say, I think he’s met his match with you so far.” 

Brienne smiled half-heartedly and opened the door. “I suppose I shall see you at the hospital or at the house for dinner again soon?” Tyrion queried. Brienne nodded in acquiescence and closed the door softly behind him. Truth be told, she was somewhat relieved that someone in the family now actually knew about her and Renly, or rather, the non-entity that was her and Renly. Her conscience felt a little assuaged and she now anticipated the pleasure of her hot chocolate with renewed appetite. 

She was just shuffling back over to the kitchen to begin a second arduous search for a clean mug when there was another knock on the door. Groaning, she padded back and opened it to reveal a very sullen-looking Hyle. 

“Hyle? What do you want?” she asked grumpily. 

Hyle pulled a face. “You’re cheating on me, aren’t you?” 

“What? We’re not even together you idiot!” exclaimed Brienne. 

“You said we could go on a date! But it seems that you’re not happy to just date me so you’ve started encouraging other blokes to sniff around,” he replied huffily. 

“What other blokes? What are you talking about?” she asked in exasperation. 

Hyle snorted. “Don’t pretend! I just saw one leave!” 

“Him? Hyle, he’s a… friend, nothing more. And besides, even if I was dating him, it’s none of your business.” 

“So it’s the other guy then? The one with the fancy car?” 

“Fancy car? I don’t know anyone with a…” Brienne flushed when she realised he was probably referring to Jaime. “He’s just a friend as well, Hyle, for God’s sake!” she retorted. 

“So you and me… we could still go out?” he asked hopefully. 

Brienne huffed in frustration. “NO. I’ve tried to be polite, but the truth is that I don’t want to go out with you!” 

Hyle stood in silence for a minute, and then to Brienne’s infinite shock and horror, he abruptly burst into tears, making her instantly regret her harshness. She placed an awkward arm around his shoulder. “Oh come on, Hyle, don’t cry. You’ll meet a much nicer woman and you’ll forget you ever wanted to date me,” she soothed. But Hyle just shook his head violently and cried harder. Realising that he was now making a lot of noise and the neighbours were likely to disapprove, Brienne gently drew him inside her flat and sat him on the sofa. She was just wondering what on earth to do with him when there was yet another knock on the door. 

“Ugh, hasn’t anyone heard of a phone?!” she exclaimed. “Who is it?” she yelled. 

“Wench, it’s me. Open up, your corridor is freezing.” 

“Oh for…” Brienne rolled her eyes. She marched over to Hyle and heaved him off the sofa. “Bedroom. Now,” she hissed. Hyle’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Not like that, you idiot. Just go in there and be quiet!” she whispered harshly. 

“Wait! Is that the flashy guy at the door? He thinks he can take my girl, does he? Well, I’ll fight him!” declared Hyle, who put both of his fists up in a mock boxer’s stance. “After all, I’ve got two hands to his one!” 

“Yes, but he’s got two braincells to your one,” Brienne snapped. Hyle’s mouth dropped open but Brienne just rolled her eyes before pushing him into her room and closing the door. She then rushed back to her front door and opened it for the third time that evening. 

She hated to admit it, but Jaime looked like a vision. The swelling from his earlier altercation with the door had all but vanished and he looked undeniably handsome in a grey pea coat and a green scarf that picked up the emerald glint of his eyes. 

“You took your time, wench,” he commented while his eyes roamed insolently down her baggy t-shirt and comfy jeggings. 

Brienne scowled at him. “What do you want, Jaime? Or did you fancy another round of questioning?” 

To his credit, Jaime looked a little mollified. “Ah yes… I suppose I should apologise for earlier.” 

“Yes. You should,” Brienne replied, crossing her arms. 

Jaime smiled, causing perfect dimples to appear in his cheeks. “I’m very sorry, wench. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive and suspicious. You and Renly are the perfect couple. Forgive me?” 

The cheeky glint in his eyes caused Brienne’s mouth to twitch, but she maintained her cool demeanour. “I’ll think about it – but only if you stop calling me ‘wench’.” 

“Ah now, what would be the fun in that?” he replied, his smile deepening. 

Brienne huffed. “So, other than your flamboyant apology, what brings you to my door?” 

“I have a gift.” 

“A gift?” Brienne answered in confusion. 

“Yes, it’s a wedding present from Robert and Cersei. Robert was going to bring it round himself, but then he decided to try a new bottle of scotch…” he trailed off and grinned at Brienne conspiratorially. 

“Ah, I see,” said Brienne, catching his drift. “So where is this gift?” 

Jaime grinned. “Impatient, aren’t you? It’s downstairs – it’s a sofa. I couldn’t bring it up on my own, of course, so I thought I’d ask for your assistance first. After all, three hands are better than one,” he joked, raising his stump to prove his point. 

Brienne snorted and was about to ask for more particulars about this unexpected gift when suddenly there was a loud crash emanating from her bedroom. Jaime frowned and tried to look past her shoulder. “What was that?” he questioned, his jade eyes boring into her. 

“Cat,” she replied instantly. 

Jaime sniffed. “Must be a bloody big cat,” he commented. 

Brienne thought quickly. “Yeah, she’s huge. So, this sofa…Um, well my flat is tiny, so it would probably look a hundred times better in Renly’s. Shall we take it there?” 

“If you want,” Jaime replied disinterestedly as he continued to try and peer past Brienne into her flat. 

“Great!” Brienne exclaimed with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. “Let’s go!” And with that, she grabbed her coat and keys and thudded down the stairs, a bemused looking Jaime trailing after her. 

*** 

The ‘fancy car’ she had heard so much about from Hyle was obviously not suited for sofa transportation. Instead, Jaime led her over to a rather large van before opening the door for her in a move of mock gallantry. 

“After you, wench,” he said, gesturing inside the vehicle. Brienne rolled her eyes and stumbled in, trying to ignore Jaime’s chuckles as he slammed the door after her. When Jaime got in the driver’s side and buckled up, Brienne noticed a problem. 

“Can you actually drive this?” she asked, nodding her head towards the regular steering wheel and gearstick. 

Jaime frowned. “I got here alright, didn’t I?” 

Brienne raised an eyebrow at him and again looked pointedly at the steering wheel. Jaime sighed. “Yes, well, _technically_ I should have an adapted steering wheel and be driving an automatic, but dear Robert often seems to forget that, so tonight I’m just making do.” 

“Isn’t that illegal?” Brienne asked worriedly. 

Jaime rolled his eyes and started the engine. “Lighten up, wench. We’ll be fine. Nothing on the roads any way.” 

“But,” Brienne began, but Jaime merely shot her an exasperated look and pulled out of his parking space. 

They’d driven few a minutes before Brienne could no longer sit and watch Jaime wrestle with driving a vehicle that was blatantly unsuited to him. She wondered why he hadn’t reminded Robert about the fact that hauling a sofa and driving an unadapted truck were probably activities beyond his reach, but the answer came pretty swiftly – pride. 

At the next juncton, Brienne swiftly reached for the gearstick and moved it smoothly down a gear as Jaime reached for it. She avoided eye contact, but she could feel his angry gaze boring into the side of her face. When the lights changed, she once again shifted the gear for him. She could still feel the anger rolling off him, but after a few minutes of much easier and smoother driving, he seemed to accept her interference and began to give instructions as to what gear he wanted. Neither side acknowledged the help she was providing, but Brienne didn’t mind. She knew that sometimes asking for help was just too difficult, even when you needed it. 

Apart from occasional gear instructions, the rest of the drive was spent in companionable silence. This gave Brienne ample time to wonder what kind of chaos Hyle would be causing in her flat now that she had locked him in. She supposed she’d just have to deal with the consequences later – there was no way she could have let Jaime see Hyle in her flat as it would have just reignited all his former suspicions. 

Eventually they pulled up in front of Renly’s flat and Jamie edged the van right up to the car in front. Brienne frowned. “Shouldn’t you leave a bit of room?” she queried. 

Jaime cast an irritated look in her direction. “I can’t – we need room at the back to take the damn sofa out.” 

Brienne eyed the gap again before shrugging and exiting her seat. If he got trapped in later, she would be the first to say ‘I told you so’. 

At the back of the van Brienne waited impatiently in the cold while Jaime faffed with the keys in order to open up the back doors. She offered to help but was met with a gruff “I can do it”, after which she remained silent. 

After some time, and a large amount of cursing, Jaime finally swung the doors open. “Ta daa!” he said with a flourish, indicating a truly hideous sofa that was mottled with an old-fashioned paisley print. 

“Oh,” said Brienne in horror. “It’s lovely…” 

Jaime smirked. “It’s awful, that’s what it is. I’m afraid to say that Robert picked it – you can see why Cersei insisted on being in charge of decorating their house.” 

Brienne nodded in understanding, suddenly feeling very glad that the sofa was not going to be put in her flat. 

“Anyway,” Jaime continued. “Let’s move this beast out of here. It’s fucking freezing tonight.” 

Brienne stepped up into the van and began to help Jaime untie the bindings that were holding it secure. As she bent to unfasten one, she spotted a pile of what looked like very large canvases piled at the far end of the van. Curiosity got the better of her and so she reached out and turned one of the boards around. She gasped at what she saw. 

A swirling riot of foaming waves spread over three-quarters of the board, while above it soared a dark and brooding sky, heavy with storm. The waves and sky were thick and textured, which gave it a superb sense of movement. And in the middle of this chaos of nature was a human hand, which was reaching up from the sea in a last, weak gesture of help. It was certainly an unnerving picture, but also enthralling. When Brienne was finally able to tear her eyes away, she greedily reached out for the next canvas. This one was as dark and brooding as the first: it consisted of a giant tree standing alone in a field, but as Brienne looked closer, she realised the tree was made up of hundreds of finger prints. The tree was completely bare and stood alone in its empty environment. 

Brienne was aware that Jaime had stopped what he was doing to watch her, but she couldn’t resist peering at the last canvas, which was smaller than the others. She was more than a little startled when she found herself looking into Jaime’s eyes – but they were different to the ones she’d been looking at over the past few days. These eyes were raw and angry, and they were set in a thinner face. The anger set in his facial features was palpable and enhanced by the fact that the whole drawing was executed in greyscale, ridding his face from its usual golden beauty. 

“You did these.” It was more of a statement than a fact, so Jaime simply nodded in return. Brienne continued to stare at the paintings in awe. “They’re extraordinary,” she murmured, gently running a finger down the textured swirls of the sea painting. “I didn’t know you were an artist.” 

Jaime laughed. “That’s because I’m not, wench. These are merely some of the outpourings of my ‘art therapy’ sessions.” 

Brienne tore her gaze away from the paintings. “Art therapy?” 

“Yes… after my accident, I was put through rehabilitation, only it wasn’t going very well. I was angry at everyone and everything and, truth be told, I don’t think I wanted to rehabilitate back into normal life. Tyrion was the only one who really cared enough to try and find a solution, so he set me up in an art therapy group. I think I shouted at him for three hours after he told me, but in the end I went along. 

“It was frustrating at first because I’d never done any form of art before, and of course, if I had done any, I would have used my right hand. I couldn’t handle a paintbrush with my useless remaining hand and I was all ready to give up when the instructor told me to just use my fingers instead.” He nodded towards the pictures. “There’s the result.” 

Brienne looked at the man standing beside her and found it hard to imagine him being unhappy and angry, although the proof of it was sitting before her. “The images are so dark,” she murmured. 

Jaime shrugged. “I wasn’t very happy at the time,” he stated flatly. 

Brienne turned to him again. “But how did they end up in here?” 

Jaime laughed wryly. “Oh, I had so many pictures that I distributed most of them among family. This is Cersei and Robert’s selection. They’d never hang them up,” he explained with a trace of bitterness in his voice. “Tyrion is the only one to hang my stuff on the wall.” 

Brienne frowned. “But they’re good, really good. Have you tried to sell any? You could probably make a career out of this.” 

Jaime sighed and leaned against the side of the van. “I don’t really have the time to do it anymore - my father keeps me busy helping out with the family business.” 

“Well, why don’t you try? You could talk to your father and say that this is what you want to do…” Brienne trailed off as she became aware of the look Jaime was giving her. 

“You haven’t met my father, wench, otherwise you’d know how unrealistic that idea is.” 

Brienne flushed with indignation. “Well, it seems stupid to let a talent go to waste,” she stated. 

“It’s not a talent,” Jaime suddenly snapped. “It’s just junk.” And with that he hastily began to stack the canvases back against the side of the van, the fronts turned away from him. Brienne looked at him in surprise and sympathy but judged it best not to say anything else. After a moment Jaime sighed and shook his head as if to free it of fanciful thoughts. “Anyway, back to the task in hand,” he said crisply. Brienne frowned but mutely began to help him shift the horrible sofa. 

It took the two of them quite some time to wrestle the monstrous item of furniture out of the van, but somehow they managed to get it on the ground. With Brienne pulling and Jaime pushing, they worked it round to the service lift and carefully maneuvered it in. It only just fit and Brienne began to feel a bit claustrophobic as they waited dully for the lift to reach Renly’s floor. 

Getting the thing out of the lift proved to be even more difficult. 

“Come on, wench! Give it a push!” Jaime instructed from the corridor. 

“I AM!” bellowed Brienne in response. “The doors keep trying to close on it, can’t you hold them open?” To her irritation, she merely heard Jaime chuckle in response. _I’ll just do it myself then_. She took a deep breath and used all of her brute force to propel the sofa into the corridor, narrowly missing Jaime in the process. 

“That was close! You almost hit me!” cried Jaime, an infuriating grin still on his face. 

“Yes, I missed,” hissed Brienne, who was now red in the face. _Why in all of hell did Cersei and Robert decide to gift me and Renly a sofa of all God-damn things?_ Muttering to herself, Brienne positioned herself at the head of the sofa again and began to wheel it down the corridor while Jaime pushed from the other end. To her annoyance, he was still laughing at her obvious irritation. 

At the end of the corridor Brienne unlocked the door to Renly’s flat and eyed the space warily. 

“What’s up, wench?” called Jaime from behind her. 

“I’m not convinced this sofa will fit through the door,” she replied, glancing at the bulky furniture item behind her. 

“It’ll be fine! A little bit of cunning and brute force will do the trick,” said Jaime blithely. 

Brienne wasn’t convinced, but she began to pull the sofa towards the doorway anyway. It immediately banged into the doorframe, causing the sound to echo down the empty corridor. “I think we need to angle it a little,” she suggested. 

Jaime huffed. “It’s too heavy to angle – it just needs a bit of persuasion,” he insisted, giving the sofa an almighty shove. 

Brienne leapt out of the way and heard the unmistakeable sound of splintering wood. She leant down to survey the damage and realised that Jaime had successfully managed to wreck the doorframe and lodge the sofa against it. She stood and gave him a sarcastic clap. “Well done, genius. Now the sofa is completely stuck.” 

To her bemusement, Jaime looked utterly unfussed. He jogged round from his end of the sofa and looked at the doorframe himself, tutting as he did so. “Such a defeatist, Brienne!” he chided. “Let me show you a secret trick that is rarely known outside of the furniture removal industry.” 

Brienne raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh yes? And what would that trick be exactly?” 

Jaime straightened and gave her a first class look into his laughing green eyes. “Push it really, really hard.” 

Brienne couldn’t help but laugh and enjoy the way Jaime’s own smile lit up his face mischievously. Eager to prove his point, Jaime raced back round to the end of the sofa in the corridor. “Stand out of the way, wench. We don’t want any more collateral damage!” 

Brienne obediently stepped out of the way of the sofa and crossed her arms across her chest. “This aught to be good,” she muttered. 

Jaime raised his head and flashed her a look of mock hurt. “Are you saying you don’t trust my abilities?” he queried. 

“Pretty much,” she replied bluntly. 

Jaime shook his head. “Well, prepare to be impressed!” To show he meant business, he unwound his green scarf and shrugged out of his coat while Brienne pretended to not admire the way his shirt clung to his lithe frame. “Are you ready, wench?” 

Brienne grinned. “Yes sir. I can’t wait to be impressed.” 

Jaime smiled broadly and bent down into position and Brienne patiently waited. “Well, aren’t you going to start pushing?” she asked innocently. 

Jaime huffed. “I just did,” he admitted. Brienne couldn’t help it – she howled with laughter, especially when Jaime stood upright and gave her a sheepish smile. 

“Hey, you shouldn’t laugh at someone with a disability!” he said in mock reproach. 

“What? Even when its stupidity?” chuckled Brienne. 

Jaime pulled a hurt face. “Well, what are your suggestions, oh Wise Brienne?” 

Brienne wiped tears of merriment from her eyes. “How about I help this time?” 

Jaime shrugged. “Sure, let’s see if you can do better!” 

Brienne rolled her eyes, cracked her knuckles and hunkered down, gripping the edge of the sofa firmly in her hands. “Ready?” she called. 

“I was born ready, wench,” was Jaime’s response. 

“OK, on the count of one, two, THREE!” 

Brienne pulled with all her might and slowly she began to feel the sofa inching towards her. Taking a deep breath, she poured every ounce of force she had into heaving on the sofa, when suddenly a loud splintering sound heralded its release. The sudden movement caught Brienne off-guard, and she found herself catapulted backwards into Renly’s flat. She tried desperately to regain her balance but ended up zooming straight into a tall corner table and onto the floor. A loud smashing sound made her close her eyes in abject horror and embarrassment, a feeling that was only heightened by the sound of Jaime’s breathless laughter. 

Tentatively, she opened her eyes and surveyed the damage – not only had the doorframe become even more splintered, but she had also broken the table and a rather expensive looking sculpture that had been sitting proudly on top of it. 

“Oh God!” she moaned as she reached out for the shattered pieces. 

Jaime crouched down beside her. “Oh don’t worry wench – it was hideous anyway.” 

Brienne met his sparkling eyes with a scowl. “That’s not the point,” she huffed. 

Jaime just grinned, his dimples and bright eyes giving his face a child-like glee. “I think the sofa should go _right_ there,” he suggested with a happy chuckle. 

Brienne couldn’t help it – she grinned in response and leapt up off the floor to help Jaime. She shoved the broken pieces of the table into a corner and then helped him manoeuvre the sofa so that it covered up the evidence of the broken art piece. 

“Problem solved!” he declared, surveying their hidden destruction with satisfaction. “He’ll never know.” He flashed a winning smile in Brienne’s direction and she couldn’t stop herself from returning it, although she was sure there would be hell to pay when Renly discovered the damage. For now, though, she was content to delight in their idiocy – guilt could wait. 

They were both still laughing when they headed back out to the bone-chillingly cold winter air. Jaime’s laughter was cut short though when he realised that his van had been blocked in by a large 4X4. 

“Ah shit! What did he do that for?” he complained, running his left hand through his golden hair in frustration. 

Brienne let a smug smile creep over her features. “I hate to say it…” she began cheekily. 

Jaime shot her an exasperated look. “All right, all right, I’ll let you have this one, wench,” he conceded. He glanced at his watch. “Damn, it’s late. The bugger is unlikely to move now.” 

Brienne nodded in pretend sympathy. “Yup, you will just have to wait here all night,” she said with delight. “Have a nice evening – bye!” She turned and began walking in the direction of home but Jaime soon caught up with her. 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” he questioned, easily keeping pace with her long strides. 

“Home,” she said simply. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you wait with Robert’s van?” 

Jaime snorted. “Hell no. He can come and get it himself tomorrow when he’s nursing the hangover from hell. Besides, I should stay with you.” 

Brienne looked at him suspiciously. “Why? I can take care of myself.” 

Jaime widened his eyes. “Oh, not for _you_! I’m the one who needs protection – who knows what kind of evil thugs could prey on a helpless one-handed man stranded in one of London’s classier boroughs?” 

Brienne shook her head with a smile. “Well alright then – I shall be the knight to your damsel, but only if you don’t annoy me.” 

“I’m never annoying,” he insisted with a knowing smile. 

“Oh no, _never_ ,” she responded with heavy sarcasm. 

They walked peaceably for a few moments, weaving in and out of straggling London crowds who were heading to the next bar or cosy restaurant. The Christmas lights lent the night a buttery, warm glow, and Brienne felt relaxed and warm in the wake of her sofa moving debacle. Of course, a man like Jaime couldn’t kick back and enjoy the scenery in silence for long. 

“So…” began Jaime as they strolled briskly along. “What’s your favourite colour, wench?” 

Brienne looked at him in astonishment. “Really? You’re going to start with that?” 

Jaime shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I figured that although you don’t know Renly’s favourite colour, you may know yourself sufficiently well to tell me your favourite.” 

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Green,” she said without thinking. 

“Ah, _green_ ,” Jaime said with a twinkle in his eyes. 

Brienne flushed and looked away from him, choosing to concentrate instead on crossing the road they’d come to. “What’s yours?” she asked in an effort to get over her embarrassment, but Jaime merely smiled and refused to answer, much to her chagrin. 

They walked on again in silence before Jaime piped up with another question. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” 

“Are you going to answer this as well, or will this be another of your famous one-sided interrogations?” Brienne demanded. 

“I may do,” he replied cheekily. 

Brienne sighed. “Rome,” she grudgingly answered. 

“Interesting – why?” 

Brienne shrugged. “It was always number one on the list Dad and I drew up. I wanted to be a gladiator when I was little…” She broke off to give Jaime a cuff round the head as he started to chortle at her childhood dreams. “When I was _little_ ,” she emphasised. 

“Why haven’t you been yet?” Jaime probed. 

Brienne sighed as her mind slid back to the emptiness left by the death of her father. “We were planning to… but then Dad got sick and we couldn’t go. And now he’s gone and I didn’t have anyone to go with. I’d always thought I’d get to see the Colosseum with him, you know?” 

Jaime nodded. “I’m sorry, wench.” 

Brienne glanced at him and was surprised to see that his sympathy was genuine. 

“You can go with Renly now,” he added. 

Brienne nodded absently, knowing full well that such a thing was merely a pipe dream. She decided to move the subject away from her and focus on getting some answers out of Jaime. “So where would you go?” 

Jaime’s brow creased in thought. “Rome,” he said after a short hesitation. 

Brienne looked at him in frustration. “You can’t say the same place as me!” she exclaimed. 

“Why not?” Jaime questioned with a glint in his eye. 

“It’s… cheating!” 

“It’s not,” he refuted. “I’d go to Rome as well – I’ve been several times before and never get bored of it. It’s a shame you’ll be taking Renly with you – I could have given you a great tour.” 

Brienne blushed at the thought and looked away from Jaime, whose eyes seemed to be looking at her a little too closely. “Have you gone there on your own?” she asked weakly. 

“Once. I also took Cersei and her kids a few years ago, but I’ve been there twice with Tyrion and he was the most fun to take on a tour of the city.” 

Brienne smiled. “You two are close, aren’t you?” 

Jaime grinned. “Yes we are. It’s strange really, as it was always Cersei and I who were together all the time growing up, which I suppose is to be expected seeing as we’re twins.” 

“You’re twins?” Brienne exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t realise!” 

Jaime laughed. “Oh wench! There _is_ a reason why we look very similar!” 

Brienne blushed for not having thought of it before – indeed, now she compared Jaime and Cersei in her mind’s eye, the two of them were each other’s mirror image, although in terms of personality, she couldn’t help but feel that Jaime was the better of the two. “How come you’re not as close now?” she questioned. 

Jaime sighed. “We drifted apart after she married Robert – Tyrion and I didn’t really think it was a good idea to marry him, but our father was delighted, so she did.” He shrugged. “And I also think she blames me on some level for the accident in which I lost my hand.” 

“What? She was involved as well?” Brienne asked in a sudden fit of curiosity. 

Jaime shot her a cautious look. “I don’t really like talking about it.” 

Brienne’s face flamed red. “Oh God, of course you don’t. I’m sorry.” She fixed her stare resolutely on the path ahead, cursing herself for making Jaime feel uncomfortable. 

“No, it’s alright wench,” Jaime said softly. “I’m surprised the others haven’t told you the gory story. I’ll give you the short version: I was driving Cersei back from some god-awful function my father had made us attend. I remember we were arguing – no idea about what – when suddenly a car pulled out of a junction at high speed. I didn’t even see it coming. It slammed into the driver’s side of the car and sent us spinning across the road.” 

“Oh my God…” breathed Brienne in horror. 

“I don’t remember what happened next. We were lucky in that Cersei walked away with concussion, while the driver of the other car only had a few broken bones. I woke up in hospital with a broken leg, some broken ribs and no right hand. Apparently it had been crushed by the impact and the surgeons could do nothing to save it.” 

Brienne placed a hesitant hand on his arm in sympathy. “You must have been so shocked when you woke up,” she murmured. 

Jaime laughed a little bitterly. “Yes, ‘shocked’ is one way to put it. I was pretty fucking mad. I’m just lucky I had Tyrion – my father only deigned to visit me in hospital once, and Cersei was just angry at me for putting us both in danger.” 

Brienne frowned. “But it doesn’t sound as though it was your fault!” 

Jaime shrugged again in an attempt at indifference. “If I hadn’t started an argument with her, perhaps I would have seen the guy coming. Who knows?” 

Brienne tugged on his arm to force him to stop and look at her. “Jaime,” she said firmly, locking her eyes with his. “It was _not_ your fault – and don’t let your sister make you think that.” 

Jaime blinked in surprise at her sudden forcefulness. “OK, wench,” he replied in a quiet voice. 

Brienne nodded once with satisfaction and reluctantly let go of his arm to continue walking. A heavy awkwardness seemed to have settled over them as both processed the results of their conversation, and they wandered in silence for some time along a street hung with chandelier lights that lent the generic shops lining either side of the road a sort of ethereal charm, especially when complemented by the occasional glow from the lights of a passing car. 

Jaime, of course, was the first to break the silence again. “You work for TFL, don’t you?” he asked abruptly. 

“Oh, yes, yes I do,” stammered Brienne, who had been lost in her thoughts. 

“How did you end up there?” he asked with curiosity. 

Brienne glanced at him, wondering whether he was actually interested in the answer. His jade eyes were looking steadily at her, while one eyebrow was raised slightly in inquiry. Brienne sighed and looked away. “I was at uni when Dad got sick. He couldn’t work anymore, so I dropped out and took the first thing that came my way, which happened to be a job in the ticket booth for TFL. I’ve been there ever since.” 

“Why don’t you go back to university?” he pressed. 

Brienne shrugged, not really wanting to admit the truth, which was that she was too scared to pick up where she left off without the support and advice of her dad. “I don’t know… I just don’t feel the inclination at the moment. I’ll do it one day, just not now.” 

Jaime regarded her suspiciously, as if he doubted her words, but to her relief he decided not to press her. They then turned down a quiet residential street that was splattered intermittently with the crude colours of inexpensive Christmas lights and the occasional glowing Father Christmas, who stared out benevolently at passers by with his bright eyes and rosy cheeks. Brienne usually liked to peer in at the houses that had their curtains open in order to display their Christmas trees in all their glittery splendour, but tonight she failed to feel the urge – one of the benefits of actually having company for once, she supposed. 

They wound their way quietly down the street and made the turn towards Brienne’s block of flats. Suddenly Jaime put a hand out and stopped her. “What?” she asked with some alarm. 

“Black ice,” he muttered, gesturing with his stump towards the glittering pavement. “Looks like it’s all across the road, too.” 

“It’s always icy here. They never grit the back roads,” explained Brienne with indifference. She took a tentative step forward. “Thanks for walking me home.” 

“Oh no, no, no! I’m not abandoning you here! I’m walking you to your front door,” replied Jaime with determination, the muffled woozy light from the streetlamp picking up the golden threads in his hair. 

“But…” Brienne began to protest, but she was cut off. 

“Wench, I am walking you to your door,” he said firmly. Bowing cartoonishly at her, he swung his shortened right arm towards the path. “Shall we?” 

Brienne rolled her eyes and began to take careful steps across the slippery path, Jaime keeping close by her side as they navigated the treacherous route to the haven of her flat. They were making good progress when suddenly Jaime skidded. Brienne yelped and grabbed his shoulder to steady him. He grinned impishly at her. “I was supposed to be helping you, not the other way around!” 

Brienne slowly removed her hand. “Yeah, well, you can save me next time.” 

‘Next time’ proved to be very soon – Brienne took an overambitious step and squealed uncharacteristically as her legs slid apart on the ice into an impromptu side split. Luckily Jaime caught her under the arms before she went down fully – Brienne had never been very flexible and she never would have got up again. To support herself, Brienne clung onto Jaime’s firm form and did not loosen her grip even when she felt his chest contract with his laughter. 

“Stop it!” Brienne ordered while vainly trying to re-slide her legs back underneath her ungainly body. Jaime, of course, continued to laugh, but at least he did continue to hold onto her so that she didn’t sink onto the frozen ground. Brienne kept wriggling, which only made him laugh harder, his warm chuckles echoing mirthfully down the empty street. 

“Well, much as I admire your rather impressive flexibility, don’t you think it is about time you stood up?” he teased. Brienne glared up at him and was momentarily lost in his eyes that shone with an emerald brilliance brighter than the skies on Bonfire Night. Tearing herself away, she forcefully brought her legs back under control and used Jaime’s shoulders to heave herself back up to her full height. This put her back in sight of his smirking face, so she abruptly turned away and tried to stalk quickly away. 

“Oi, wench! Wait for me!” he called, taking a firm hold of her arm. Just then his own feet slipped and he clung onto Brienne. 

“Let go! You’re going to pull me down!” Brienne gasped as Jaime held onto her tightly. He was just beginning to regain his own balance when Brienne’s footing again let her down. She reached out desperately to Jaime, but as she did so, their legs entangled and they began a forceful descent. As Sod’s Law would have it, Brienne fell first, followed swiftly by Jaime, who had a rather more comfortable landing thanks to her cushioning the blow. 

“Ow,” moaned Brienne. _I’m going to have one hell of a bruise on my backside tomorrow. Great._

“Brienne? Are you OK?” 

Brienne glanced up into Jaime’s face with annoyance, but was startled when she saw warm, genuine concern swimming in his viridian eyes. He reached out and gently, almost tenderly, brushed a strand of her straw-blonde hair out of her eyes. _If I was beautiful, this would be the moment when he would kiss me._ Brienne shut her eyes tightly for a moment. _Idiot! Of course he bloody wouldn’t! He thinks you’re engaged to his brother-in-law!_

Brienne felt him lift his weight off her. She cracked her eyes open and saw that his concern had increased. 

“Where are you hurt?” he questioned, he eyes running across her body in search of evident broken bones. 

Shaking her head to silence her wild thoughts, Brienne propped herself up on her elbow. “I’m OK – just going to have a pretty colourful bruise tomorrow. Are you OK?” 

A look of relief flashed across Jaime’s face before it was replaced by his habitual smirk. “I’m fine – I had a rather nice landing place.” 

Brienne huffed and reluctantly accepted his hand as she heaved herself up off the ice. She brushed herself down and tried not to remember how it had felt to be pinned beneath this ridiculously annoying, ridiculously handsome man. 

Once again they set off across the ice, although Brienne was surprised when Jaime reached across and tucked her arm in the crook of his. It made her blush even as she convinced herself that he was probably just preparing to use her as a handy support should he lose his footing again. 

Luckily they made it the last few feet to the safety of the door of her building. Flushing, Brienne quickly extricated her arm from where it had been nestled cosily in Jaime’s. “Well, uh, thanks for walking me back. And for giving me a bruise to remember the night by,” she said briskly, wanting nothing more than to run up the stairs to her flat and away from this man whose presence was beginning to unsettle her. 

Jaime flicked a gilded strand of hair out of his eyes. “My pleasure, wench. One should never make a dangerous crossing alone.” 

He stood smiling at her but made no immediate move to leave, which made Brienne feel even more awkward. She briefly entertained the idea of inviting him up for some tea or something – after all, he HAD walked her home, but then she remembered the rather unfortunate problem that was Hyle, who was still safely locked away in her flat. Brienne therefore shuffled her feet uncomfortably. “Err… so will you be OK making it back across the ice on your own?” she asked dumbly. 

Jaime shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll make it, even if I have to crawl.” A sly smile spread across his face. “Or if you are really worried about little one-handed me, I could stay?” 

Brienne’s face instantly burnt from all of the hot blood coursing to it. Jaime laughed lightly at her reaction. “Or maybe not,” he said in answer to his own question. “Good night, wench.” He flashed her a last dazzling smile and began to saunter back over to the icy path. Suddenly he stopped. “Blue!” He called. Brienne frowned at him in puzzlement. “My favourite colour – sapphire blue,” he clarified. Brienne’s eyes widened but Jaime only smirked and turned away to begin his journey back across the ice. 

As soon as his back was turned, Brienne spun and raced inside her building, her heart pounding and her head struggling to keep up. Tearing open the door to her flat she ran into her bedroom, only to remember what awaited her there. 

“Hyle!” she gasped, her focus on reality snapping back. Hyle looked up guiltily at the sound of her shocked voice – her wardrobe and cupboard drawers stood open, all the contents rifled through, and in the middle of it was him wrapped up in one of her favourite jumpers. Brienne put her hands on her hips. “Were you trying on my clothes?” she asked, completely dumbfounded. She then glanced down at his feet. “And my _shoes_!” 

Hyle blushed in a style that would be worthy of Brienne. “You left me locked in here! You’ve been gone hours!” he complained. 

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Well I’m back now and I want to go to bed, so you’d better take those off and leave.” 

“But…” Hyle protested. 

“No buts, out!” she cried, waiting impatiently while he divested himself of her jumper and shoes. _I’ll have to wash that jumper tomorrow_. Eventually she managed to hustle him out of the door in spite of his continued protests and immediately shot back over to her bedroom window. Her eyes found him straightaway – to her surprise, Jaime was making his way back across the ice with a feline grace that saw not a single slip or stumble. He quickly came to the end of the icy path and then strolled away around the corner and out of sight. 

Like an idiot, Brienne continued to stare in the direction he’d gone. Finally she dragged herself away and sat heavily on her bed. She glanced up and caught sight of herself in her mirror, which was mostly obscured by old photographs of her long-gone family. She almost didn’t recognise the person staring back at her with wide, sky-blue eyes. Her skin was flushed, but not to an unhealthy hue. Rather, it was a rosy pink and complemented the glow in her eyes. She was also a little breathless, and a small hint of a warm and tingling smile played about her large, plump lips. 

_You like Jaime._

Instantly Brienne’s colour deepened. She tried to deny it to herself, but her quickened heartbeat and the warmth that spread through her chest when she thought of him lying on top of her all whispered to the contrary. _He likes blue, sapphire blue… just like your eyes_. But that couldn’t be possible, could it? Could Jaime like her too? _He was probably just joking. However, you are certainly NOT joking_. 

“Oh God,” she murmured as full realisation sank in. “What the hell do I do now?” And with that, she sank backwards onto her bed and buried her head in the marshmallow comfort of her pillow.


	8. Under the mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has an epiphany, Brienne sits through an awkward dinner, and both get caught out by an old tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the delay of this chapter - I was away for the weekend and since then I have been wrestling with a job offer which I either need to accept or decline within the next few hours. So much stress! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It certainly made me smile, but then I am a little biased. :)

Jaime eased himself down into the warm embrace of the secluded booth that Tyrion had somehow managed to wrangle despite the entire bar being packed. He winced in slight pain as he was reminded of his recent fight with an icy pavement, although he had certainly been spared the worst by the wench.

_Wench_. Yes, he did like calling her that. He liked the way it sparked little lights of fury in her deep blue eyes and the way it would prompt forth the little furrows in her brow as she struggled to maintain her temper. Yes, it was fun baiting her and then watching a warm blush creep up the column of her white neck and into her face. 

His pleasing train of thoughts were brought to an abrupt end by Tyrion, who was snapping his fingers repeatedly in front of his face. “Earth to Jaime! Are you listening to me at all?” 

Jaime blinked and rolled his eyes. “Of course I am – give a man a second to sit down.” 

Tyrion narrowed his eyes. “You were grinning about something, what was it?” 

Jaime smiled into his brother’s mismatched eyes. “Oh you know me - I’m always high on life.” 

Tyrion snorted in disbelief and pushed a pint of ale across the gouged and beer-soaked table. “Perhaps this will loosen your tongue,” he suggested. 

Jaime took the beer and had a tentative sip – it was rich and hoppy and soothed the ache from his gallantry earlier in the evening. He relaxed back into his seat and soaked up the warm murmur of the bar, which was decorated in the seemingly now-obligatory ‘pared back’ style of bare bricks, old unvarnished wood, and plush, worn seats. He could still feel Tyrion’s curious eyes on him though, so he decided to distract his dear brother from whatever thought process he was currently working through. “So, finally needed a break from the House of Fun?” he queried, taking another indulgent sip from his ale. 

Tyrion sighed and finally relinquished Jaime from his interrogating stare. “The sooner I can go back to my place in the sticks, the better. Robert has literally drunk the house dry – helped in no small way by our lovely sister – and when the man of the house is sober we all have to stay out of his way because he goes out of his mind with worry about Renly.” He shook his head dolefully and took a long draught out of his own pint glass. 

“Why not pack up and go home then? Christmas is over now.” 

Tyrion groaned dramatically. “I promised the children I’d stay at least until New Year. Poor things aren’t getting much attention – if something doesn’t have a cork and a vintage stamped on it, Cersei and Robert aren’t likely to pay much notice at the moment.” 

“You’ve always been too soft,” said Jaime teasingly, but in truth it was what made Tyrion his favourite sibling – Cersei had always been brittle and lacking in empathy, even when they were close. 

Tyrion smiled crookedly. “And are you joining us for another alcohol-fuelled dinner tomorrow?” 

Jaime groaned. “I’ve already been at that house more than I care to – do I really have to sit through another dinner? No doubt Cersei will serve something suitably unfriendly for a repulsive brother with only one working hand.” 

Tyrion waved his hand dismissively. “Oh that’s nothing, brother. She’s been putting the wine decanters out of my stunted reach since I first tasted the smoky goodness of an oak-matured red. You’ll find a way to adapt.” 

Jaime grinned but he still didn’t really fancy the idea of playing house with his sister yet again, even if Tyrion was there to make it more bearable. Of course, it would be more bearable still if a certain blonde giant was there. He cleared his throat: “Will Brienne be coming?” he asked casually, taking another appreciative sip of his drink. _Hmm, half is already gone - I’d better pace myself, especially as I’m here with Tyrion_. 

Tyrion eyed his brother. “Yes, I think I remember her saying that she could come. What did she think of the sofa?” 

Jaime snorted derisively. “She was very _polite_ about it,” he said with a grin. “So we shifted it into Renly’s flat.” 

Tyrion laughed. “Well at least we now know that she possesses a modicum of taste. I’m sure it sets off Renly’s place quite admirably.” 

Jaime grinned as he thought back to the scuffed door and the broken sculpture in Renly’s flat – it had been worth lugging that stupid sofa around to see Brienne laugh freely for the first time. It had really made her eyes shine and her laugh was surprisingly gentle – like a small stream running over stones polished smooth by age. He’d rather liked the way it had sounded, so much so that he had surprised even himself by his uncharacteristic offer to see her home. She was a curious one, the wench… 

Tyrion snapped his fingers again. “If I’m boring you, brother, I can easily go and find myself a new companion.” 

Jaime frowned at him. “I was listening – it’s just that you never say anything interesting.” 

“I always say things of great interest,” declared Tyrion defensively. “It’s just that no one has the corresponding intellect to register the import of my conversation.” He steepled his hands on the pock-marked table. “What, or rather who, are you day dreaming about?” 

Jaime sniffed. “I’m not thinking about anything or any _one_ in particular.” 

“Yes you are,” his brother insisted. “I recognise that look on your face. So tell me, which poor female has signed up to be the recipient of your unique brand of wit?” 

Jaime avoided his brother’s eyes and fixed his concentration on the fascinating journey of his finger across the scarred table top, refusing to meet Tyrion’s question with a direct answer. 

Tyrion drummed his own fingers on the table in thought. “You know I will figure it out eventually. You can’t hide anything from me, brother.” 

Jaime cocked a mocking eyebrow at him. “Well, your biggest problem in this case is that there is nothing to figure out. It’s all in your mind. Now, can you stop quizzing me for long enough for me to go and get a refill?” 

Tyrion rolled his eyes but wordlessly handed him his own glass. Snatching it, Jaime paced quickly over to the bar. _It’s true – there is nothing to figure out. I was just thinking of that damn wench and her ungainliness… and the way she looked at my paintings like she actually understood them, and how surprisingly comfortable she was when I landed on top of her after I accidentally/on purpose slipped. Where on earth did she get such fucking blue eyes? I’ve seen duller sapphires._ Jaime closed his own eyes momentarily to try and block Brienne’s out, but they remained behind his lids, looking guilessly up at him as yet another blush stole across her face. 

Jaime groaned inwardly. _Oh fuck. You’ve really got yourself into a mess now you fucking idiot._

It was some time before poor Tyrion got his drink. 

*** 

Even this spacious dining room felt crowded thanks to the sheer number of people crammed around the shining length of the aged oak table. Brienne felt a little hemmed in, and no matter how tightly she tucked her arms into her sides, every slight movement caused her to either bump into Stannis, who sat on her left, or Myrcella, who had quickly seized a seat at her other side. Cersei headed one end of the table, where she was quickly sucking down her second glass of deep red wine despite only just being seated, while Robert sat at the other end, his face almost matching the colour of the wine as he laughed biliously at some witty remark of Tyrion’s. To Brienne’s chagrin, Jaime sat opposite her in all his blonde and green-eyed glory, which meant she had to pretend that the details of the table decorations were so eye-catching that she couldn’t look up. When she did chance a look upwards, she rather disconcertingly found herself looking straight into those emerald irises, which caused both her and him to look away sharply. 

The first course was served by a frazzled girl, for whom Brienne instantly felt sympathy for. Truth be told, she felt a little embarrassed to have someone serve her in a private house, but seeing as Cersei was unlikely to have cooked the meal, perhaps it was not so very strange to have someone else serve it as well. 

When her plate was put before her, Brienne winced. It was a dish of langoustines still clothed in their shells. Brienne glanced across at Jaime, who was smiling wryly at the dish which required nimble hands to eat. She watched as he turned his gaze to Cersei, who was rather smugly sipping on her wine, and raised his glass in an ironic toast. He didn’t even bother attempting to wrestle with his food. Anger welled up in Brienne at Cersei’s callousness – how could she treat her own brother and her twin in such a humiliating way? In irritation, she pushed her own away. 

“Do you not like them, Brienne?” asked Myrcella with touching concern. 

Brienne smiled at her – she was such a contrast to her mother. “No, I don’t like them served in their shells,” she replied in a quiet voice. She looked up to see a half-smile playing about Jaime’s lips, so she quickly looked away in embarrassment. 

The next course wasn’t any friendlier to Jaime – a large piece of steak decorated most of the plate, and while it looked delicious, it would prove a challenge to cut up one-handed. Brienne frowned and sent an un-noticed glare in Cersei’s direction. She for one seemed to be heartily enjoying herself. 

An awkward silence descended upon the table as the others began to cut into their steak, but after a few moments Tyrion cleared his throat. “Jaime, you know I like my steak well done, even though most chefs would hate to hear me say it. Yours looks much more to my taste – shall we trade?” Jaime glanced over to his brother and nodded, before standing and switching plates. Brienne watched in confusion until Jaime sat back down – Tyrion’s steak had been neatly cut into fork-sized pieces. 

“Thank you, Jaime,” Tyrion continued, blithely ignoring his sister’s look of fury. “This one is much more to my liking.” 

Brienne grinned and tucked into her own meal with renewed appetite. 

*** 

Over dessert, conversation gradually picked up again and Brienne was feeling much more relaxed, although she continued to avoid Jaime’s eye. Suddenly, Myrcella nudged her elbow. 

“Brienne, do you know anyone who’s single?” 

Brienne almost spluttered out the brandy she had been appreciatively sipping. “Single? Um, no, I don’t really. Why?” 

Myrcella turned her mouth down. “Oh, that’s a shame. It’s just that all of my uncles have someone now, apart from Uncle Tyrion and Uncle Jaime, and I thought you may know someone. I want everyone to be happy!” 

Brienne blushed furiously and noticed both Jaime and Tyrion shift uncomfortably in their seats. Cersei, who had picked up on the thread of conversation, laughed loudly while helping herself to yet more wine. “Good luck with that, my dear. Who would want a dwarf or a cripple?” 

Mrycella frowned as Brienne flushed in indignation. To her pride, Myrcella did not agree with her mother. “I think there’s someone for everyone, we just have to find the right person,” the young girl insisted. “Don’t you agree, Brienne?” 

“Er, yes, yes I do,” Brienne stammered. 

“Uncle Tyrion, what kind of girl do you like?” 

Tyrion chuckled. “Dark and dangerous,” he replied with a wink. 

Myrcella giggled and turned to Brienne. “Do you know any single dark and dangerous ladies?” she questioned. Brienne blushed and shook her head as her mind quickly flashed through her limited acquaintance. Myrcella sighed sadly and turned her attention to Jaime instead. “Uncle Jaime, what about you?” 

For the first time in their short time of knowing one another, Brienne perceived Jaime to be ill at ease. He shifted in his seat and focused his attention on the fine stem of his wine glass. “I suppose I like outgoing brunettes. Short, curvy ones,” he answered in a flat voice. 

Unbidden, a pang of disappointment surged through Brienne. However, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud guffaw from Robert. “Stuff and nonsense!” he roared. “Ignore him, Myrcie – I know from many a night out that he always goes for blondes.” The ensuing awkwardness over the table was palpable and only broken by all of the diners deciding en mass that now was an excellent time to go and digest in the living room. Brienne just hoped that her pounding heart couldn’t be heard by anyone else. 

*** 

Brienne’s discomfort for the rest of the evening was acute and she was relieved when it reached a time when she could finally cry off and skulk home. Leave-taking was certainly difficult with so many people present, but eventually they all herded towards the front door as Brienne blanketed herself in her coat and scarf. In an uncharacteristically chivalric manner, Jaime opened the front door for her and stood to one side as Brienne cast her last goodbyes towards the rest of the family. She was halted, however, by a cry from Tommen. 

“Look! Auntie Brienne and Uncle Jaime are under the mistletoe!” 

Brienne slowly raised her eyes and realised with horror that a traitorous sprig of mistletoe was indeed fastened to the ceiling. _I’m sure that wasn’t there before! Curse and DAMN IT_. Brienne cautiously lowered her eyes to Jaime, who was still standing and holding the door. His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes looked bright and slightly panicked. _God, I don’t think I could bear to see the distaste on his face if he actually has to kiss me in front of his whole family_. 

Realising that everyone was waiting for her to say or do something, Brienne laughed awkwardly. “Ha! I didn’t realise anyone still did that nowadays! Such a silly tradition…” She tried to edge towards the open door but she was once again halted by Tommen’s sweet voice. 

“Uncle Jaime! You have to kiss her!” he demanded. 

Brienne heard Cersei’s derisive snort behind her. “Yes brother! We can’t stand here all day,” she said with glee. 

Brienne reluctantly turned away from the door and chanced a glance at Jaime to convey her unsaid plea to get this over and done with. His eyes were narrowed slightly and they flickered from her eyes and across her face before going back to her eyes again. Brienne waited in excruciating embarrassment as he seemingly built up the courage to kiss her hideous face. 

“Fuck it.” The words were so soft and spoken so fleetingly Brienne wondered whether she had heard them at all, but before she had time to consider them she was shocked into stillness as Jaime stepped towards her. Suddenly his good left hand was cupping her face with unexpected sweetness and then, instead of the swift, chaste peck on the cheek she had been dreading, Brienne found his lips pressed softly, yet firmly, against her own chapped ones. He was so close she could feel warmth radiating from his body and the palm that brushed lightly against her cheek, and the fresh, pine scent of him filled her nose and overwhelmed her senses. And still he lingered, a finger gently stroking her cheekbone in an infinitesimal movement that could not possibly have been detected by anyone other than her. Brienne stood frozen to the spot, her thundering heart providing the only movement in her body. Eventually she felt him begin to pull away, but as he did so he flicked his tongue quickly across her plump lower lip in a move that sent giddy heat from her head to the very tips of her toes. And then it was over and Brienne slowly became re-aware of the cold night air from the front door and the happy applause of both Tommen and Myrcella. 

A few clarifying breaths of the crisp winter night cleared the fog from Brienne’s mind and she finally braved herself to look back upon the golden man who had given her a taste of something she was never likely to get again. Once more his expression was closed, but his eyes told a confusing story. Darkened to the deepest jade they looked almost hungry, and strangely feline in a predatory way. One look was enough to send tiny shivers down Brienne’s spine and, not knowing what to do, she plunged headlong into the night, calling her last farewells carelessly over her shoulder as she marched into the inky dark. But even as she scurried down the path, she could still feel the weight of Jaime’s gaze on her back and the feel of his lips on her own, and it was a sensation that followed her all the way home.


	9. Happy New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrcella overhears something, Jaime is distraught, and Brienne attends a New Year's Eve party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all - thanks for all the love and comments received so far. I'm so pleased that so many of you are enjoying this guilty piece of fluff. 
> 
> Secondly, after tomorrow there may be a very short hiatus before the next chapter is posted as I am going away for the weekend. :-) 
> 
> As ever, enjoy!

“Brienne, are you OK?”

Pod’s concerned voice cut through Brienne’s gloomy reverie and forced her brain to return to the world around her, a world that was currently blissfully empty of green eyes and a pale, handsome man in a hospital ward. Slowly she became reaware of the irregular flow of people past the ticket booth and the tramping sound of feet accompanying them. She turned in her seat and cast a wan smile in the direction of her friend. “Oh Pod, I have completely messed up,” she confessed. 

Pod frowned. “Is this about that coma guy again?” 

Brienne winced and pretended to suddenly become inordinately interested in the computer screen in front of her. 

“Come on, Brienne, you can tell me. Perhaps talking about it will help?” Pod suggested kindly, although even he didn’t sound convinced about the therapeutic abilities of his listening ear. 

Brienne sighed and gathered up all her courage. “I’m sort of having an affair.” 

“An affair? With whom?” Pod barked out in pure surprise. 

“With Jaime,” Brienne mumbled. She chanced a look at Pod’s face and saw utter bemusement plastered across it. 

“Who’s Jaime?” 

“Renly’s brother-in-law,” she muttered, her shame making her shrink into her seat. 

Pod’s brow creased in concentration. “And Renly is the guy in the coma? The one everyone thinks you’re engaged to?” 

Brienne nodded dumbly and sucked air into her lungs in an effort to calm herself and her churning mind. 

There was a brief moment of silence as Pod struggled to comprehend the situation. “But you’re not really engaged, so you’re not _actually_ cheating on him,” he eventually blurted out. “I mean, Renly doesn’t even know you, does he? So there’s no problem!” 

Brienne groaned. “No, I’m not engaged, but Jaime thinks I am! As does the whole family! So I can’t do anything, and then when the truth comes out, Jaime will hate me for lying and will probably refuse to see me again!” Brienne shuddered in an effort to suppress her sobs and noticed a few sympathetic glances thrown her way by the more observant people passing by her booth. 

Pod leaned over and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Maybe you should just tell the truth now?” 

“I can’t!” she blurted out. “It’s too late… and Tyrion said it would be best to wait until Renly wakes up…” 

Pod narrowed his eyes in confusion again. “Who’s Tyrion?” 

“Jaime’s brother,” she explained. “He knows the truth and persuaded me not to say anything just yet.” 

Pod sighed deeply. “Hell, Brienne. I’m afraid I’m completely out of my depth here. Perhaps you should talk to a professional?” 

Brienne laughed weakly. “They’d probably lock me up and throw away the key.” 

Pod looked as though he was about to say something else when the booth door opened and a young redhead skipped through. “Hi!” she chirped happily. “It’s time for your break, Pod.” 

Pod glanced at his watch before rising stiffly from his seat. “Thanks Sansa. Brienne, remember that I’m always here to talk to, even if I am useless. Are you sure you’ll be OK?” 

Brienne smiled warmly at him. “You’re not useless, Pod. And I’ll be fine. Thank you.” 

Pod nodded reluctantly and slipped past Sansa, who plonked herself down into his vacated seat. 

“Are you still coming to the party tonight?” Sansa questioned, her head tilted to one side like a little bird. Brienne nodded in the affirmative – she hadn’t initially wanted to come, but now it gave her a good excuse to not go back to Cersei and Robert’s house for their New Year’s Eve family gathering. She wasn’t quite ready to face them all again, and she dreaded spending another awkward evening in Jaime’s company. At least her acceptance of the invitation seemed to make Sansa happy, and Brienne was content to let her prattle on about the details of the party while she focused her mind on not dwelling too deeply on her problems. 

She had just begun to relax when a familiar sight made her sit bolt upright in her chair. Through the crowds she could discern the bright golden heads of Myrcella and Tommen, the latter of which was holding the hand of an older lady whom Brienne took to be some kind of nanny. Brienne was just wondering whether she could hide under her desk when Mrycella’s bright eyes spotted her. Brienne groaned inwardly as the bubbly young girl began dragging her brother and the accompanying nanny over to the ticket booth. 

“Brienne!” Myrcella cried as she came up against the screen, her filigree hair catching the yellow light of the office. 

“Hello Myrcella, hello Tommen,” Brienne smiled. “What brings you here?” 

“Nanny is taking us to the zoo!” shouted Tommen with excitement. 

“Oh that sounds like fun!” replied Brienne earnestly. “I hope you have a good time.” 

The nanny made to move the children along, but then Sansa poked her head over Brienne’s shoulder. “Hello there!” she said with a beaming smile, her long copper hair tickling Brienne’s cheek. “I’m Sansa.” 

Tommen gave her a cherubic smile. “I’m Tommen, and this is my sister Myrcella.” 

Sansa smiled warmly at them. “Nice to meet you. How do you know Brienne?” 

Brienne’s heart instantly froze in a clutch of dread. “We, uh, we…” she began. 

Myrcella grinned. “Brienne is marrying my uncle Renly!” 

_Oh God, oh God, oh God._

Sansa’s surprise was writ clear all over her face as she turned to Brienne in astonishment, her blue eyes wide with interest. “You didn’t tell me you were getting married!” she cried. 

“I…er…we…” Brienne stammered in confusion. 

Fortunately the nanny was not keen on hearing Brienne’s reply. “Children, it’s time to go! We can’t disturb these ladies from their work all day,” she counselled. Obediently, the children turned to go, giving Brienne cheerful waves as they went. Brienne groaned and sank back into her seat as Sansa began to pepper her with questions. 

“Brienne! You have GOT to give me details!” Sansa squawked with delight. 

Brienne ran a hand over her tired face. “It’s complicated, Sansa.” 

“Complicated? How…” Sansa’s eyes suddenly went as round as saucers. “OH MY GOD! You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” she gasped. 

Brienne stared at her incredulously for a long time, her mouth hanging open. “Pregnant?! Of course I’m not pregnant!” she eventually cried. 

“Oh,” said Sansa in deflation. “Then why is it so complicated?” 

“It just… is,” Brienne mumbled. 

“Oooh, are you going to bring him to the party?” Sansa clapped her hands. “You MUST bring him!” 

Brienne shook her hear tiredly. “No! I can’t bring him.” 

Sansa pouted in disappointment. “Well, if you change your mind, one more is always welcome to join the crowd!” 

_Perhaps, but maybe not a man lying unconscious in a hospital bed…_. 

*** 

“Oh no!” 

“What is it, Myrcella?” questioned the nanny with concern. 

“I’ve dropped my glove!” she cried, searching her pockets desperately. Looking back the way she came she spotted her glove lying on the floor in front of Brienne’s ticket booth. “There it is!” she cried, speeding back over to reclaim it. She was just shoving it back into her pocket when she heard the pretty red-haired girl exclaim something that took Myrcella by surprise. 

“OH MY GOD! You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” 

Neither girl in the ticket booth heard Myrcella’s gasp or saw her race back over to her brother and nanny, her little heart thudding with delight at the news. 

“Brienne’s going to have a baby!” 

*** 

Jaime had no idea why he’d agreed to sequester himself in his sister’s house for New Year’s Eve. Normally Cersei threw a huge party, but she’d been forced to cancel it by Robert, who felt it was disrespectful to his poor brother to have a large, merry party while Renly was still lying helpless in hospital. As a result, his sister was in a worse mood than usual and her tongue was sharper than ever. He and Tyrion had quickly judged her mood and made themselves comfortable at the far end of the room. 

Jaime had been disappointed to learn that Brienne was unlikely to be in attendance this evening, and part of him worried about her reaction to their mistletoe surprise the other day. He was well aware that he’d taken a great liberty in kissing her like that – he should have restricted himself to a brotherly peck on the cheek, but he’d never been very good at behaving himself, and the sight of her blue eyes widened in embarrassment had sent him over the edge. 

She’d tasted wonderful. 

He could have stood there kissing her for an eternity, but even he could not stick two fingers up at decorum completely. Her lips had been unexpectedly soft and pliant beneath his own and he could feel the warmth of her blushes where he’d touched her cheek. It had been strange kissing someone who was slightly taller than him, but he found he rather liked it as it gave him more immediate access to Brienne’s fascinating mouth. Tearing himself away had been difficult, especially when he’d pulled back and seen the surprise swimming in the cerulean depths of her eyes. Had she enjoyed it as much as he had? _I suppose I’ll never know._

Jaime was still brooding this question when the front door slammed and Myrcella raced in, her cheeks pinkened by the cold. 

“Myrcella!” cried Cersei admonishingly. “Do not run in the house!” 

Abashed, Myrcella blushed in a way that would have made Brienne proud. “I’m sorry Mum, but I have such exciting news!” 

The poor girl was practically jumping up and down in sheer excitement, but neither Robert nor Cersei looked particularly interested. Fortunately Tyrion sought to gratify her. “What news?” cried his brother in an attempt to match his niece’s excitement. 

Myrcella beamed at him. “Brienne’s pregnant!” 

It was as though a hatchet had been buried in Jaime’s chest – he could feel his heart shudder and stop under the weight of the impact and his head felt light and disconnected to his body. “Brienne… is what?!” he asked shakily. 

“She’s going to have a baby!” chimed his niece. 

Tyrion’s eyebrows were so high they had nearly disappeared into his thick blonde hair. “And how do you know this, Myrcella?” he probed curiously. 

“I overheard her and her friend talking,” replied Mrycella breathlessly. “Uncle Renly will be so happy when he wakes up, won’t he?” 

Jaime’s vision began to blur. No wonder the wench had looked at him with such panic when he’d made that bawdy suggestion to stay over, and why she had been so evidently reluctant to kiss him the other day – she was expecting another man’s child. Worse still, it was his brother-in-law’s child. 

Bitterness and jealously pumped in his blood, every pulse bringing him closer and closer to complete despair. It was ridiculous of him, but he couldn’t control his reaction. He may only have known her for a short time, but she had entranced him more thoroughly than any other woman he had met. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was up and striding towards the front door. 

“And where the hell do you think you’re going?” Cersei screeched behind him. Jaime ignored her and simply shrugged on his coat and launched himself out of the door and into his car. He drove furiously to the building that housed Brienne’s flat with his heart thundering all the way. _It can’t be true… It can’t be… I need to find out, and apologise, and… God, what if falling on the ice had hurt her and the baby? Why did this have to happen?_

He finally reached his destination after swerving around the New Year traffic and parked his car haphazardly at the front of Brienne’s block of flats. Luckily someone was coming out of the building as he raced up to the entrance, and they held the door open for him. He started up the stairs when he suddenly heard Brienne’s soft voice floating down the stairwell. He looked up the corkscrewing flights of stairs and his heart skittered when he saw her… with her arms around someone all too familiar. 

*** 

Brienne was staring listlessly at herself in the mirror. She’d tried her best to dress up for Sansa’s party but she still felt dishevelled and unglamorous. She was wearing a blue silk shirt that Sansa had assured her brought out the colour of her eyes and a pair of black skinny jeans (which she’d had to order online because no normal shop would stock clothes that accommodated her outlandish height). A tentative slick of mascara was the only make-up she had bothered to apply, while round her neck she wore a silver locket that had been a gift from her father to her mother. 

She was just reaching for her bag when there was a knock at her door. She pulled it open in irritation to reveal Hyle, who was fidgeting on her doorstep. Sighing, she raised an eyebrow in questioning. “Hyle, what do you want? I was about to go out.” 

He smiled in an uncharacteristically sheepish way before pulling out a bunch of slightly bedraggled flowers from behind his back. Brienne looked at them warily. 

“I bought you these to thank you for the other day,” Hyle began, still proffering the wilted blooms. 

Brienne folded her arms. “The other day?” 

Hyle shuffled on his feet, which were encased in a pair of beaten-up gold trainers. “You know… I was upset, and you took me in…” 

“There’s no need to buy me flowers for that, Hyle. Besides, I then locked you in my room and threw you out when I came back. That was hardly charitable of me.” 

Hyle shrugged. “Yes, but… you _cared_ …” 

To Brienne’s horror, he began to tear up again. “Oh Hyle, don’t cry again! Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful,” she said as graciously as possible. 

Hyle smiled gleefully and launched himself into her arms, holding onto her as if letting go would cause him to collapse on the floor. Brienne grimaced and awkwardly patted him on the back for a few seconds, before gently pulling away. 

“Will you be my date tonight?” Hyle suddenly blurted out. 

Brienne rolled her eyes. “You know I won’t, Hyle.” 

He looked as though he was about to protest, but one glimpse at her determined face convinced him otherwise. He sniffed theatrically a few times, but when he realised that there was no more sympathy forthcoming he slowly tramped back down the stairs to his flat. With infinite relief, Brienne went back inside her room and laid the flowers on her messy coffee table. She felt a little guilty about being so harsh, but she didn’t want to lead him on unnecessarily. _It would be nice to have someone at midnight though, although Hyle perhaps isn’t the answer._

Shaking her head, Brienne threw on her battered coat and grabbed her bag before locking her door and thundering down the stairs. Opening the door to the building, she was instantly greeted by a gust of icy cold air. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she began to trudge down the path when she noticed someone familiar pacing up and down by the road. 

“Jaime?” 

He turned at the sound of his name and, after a moment of hesitation, marched towards her. He seemed agitated, and for a horrible moment Brienne wondered if something had happened to Renly. “Jaime, are you OK? Has something happened?” she questioned worriedly. 

He shook his head virulently, his blonde locks tossing like a mane. “I’m fine, everything is fine… Are you going somewhere?” 

Brienne nodded, although she wasn’t completely reassured by his words. “Yes, I’m on my way to my friend’s party.” 

Jaime nodded absently. “Good, good… I’ll walk with you.” 

Brienne raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. “There’s really no need – she only lives around the corner…” 

“I insist. It wouldn’t be good for you to slip on some ice or something,” he muttered, gesturing for her to lead the way. 

Puzzled by his behaviour, Brienne began to walk in the direction of Sansa’s house. “I saw Myrcella today,” she said by way of conversation. 

Jaime’s eyes shot up. “Yes, she said she’d seen you.” 

Brienne waited for him to continue, but he abruptly turned his head away and focused intently on his feet. Brienne felt immensely awkward, especially as her treacherous mind began to bring up memories of what had happened under the mistletoe. 

The walk to Sansa’s was a short one, which was just as well because neither one of them seemed to be able to come up with anything to say, which Brienne found strange considering they had talked so easily when Jaime had escorted her home. “Well, this is it…” she gestured to the house in front of them. It was lit up with hundreds of Christmas lights and the sound of laughter and music could already be heard from inside. 

Jaime shuffled his feet awkwardly before clearing his throat. “Brienne…” 

Brienne turned to hear him out but then the door of the house swung open and Sansa came tumbling out. “BRIENNE! I thought you’d bottled out!” she shrieked. Sansa rushed over and wrapped her arms around Brienne, who was taken aback by the red-head’s tipsy affection. Sansa then caught sight of Jaime standing awkwardly to one side. “And you brought your fiancé!” she cried, hugging Brienne tighter. “Come in both of you, it’s freezing out here.” 

Brienne glanced at Jaime and saw the same shocked embarrassment on his face that was probably showing on hers. “Sansa, this isn’t…” she protested, but it was too late because Sansa had already seized Jaime’s arm and was stumbling back inside the house. Swallowing her discomfort, Brienne crept in after them. 

As soon as she entered the house Brienne and was hit by a wave of bodyheat and the dull thudding of a music system with the bass turned up so high that it felt as though the music was thrumming straight through to her core. The house was packed with people running high on liberal amounts of alcohol and the knowledge that they didn’t have to get up for work the next morning. Over the sea of heads Brienne could see some people throwing wild shapes in the living room, which was decked out in fairy lights and various things that glittered, while others lingered over a long table laden with every sort of spirit known to man. It was overwhelming to say the least. 

Vague acquaintances and strangers were soon pressed up against her as Brienne inwardly cringed at the sound of Sansa braying “Brienne and her fiancé are here!” to whoever could hear her over the thudding music. Ducking her head in embarrassment, Brienne tugged off her coat and threw herself into the first available dark corner, sighing with relief as she did so. She had completely lost track of Jaime and Sansa in the crowd of people - _how does Sansa have this many friends?_ \- but was rather glad of that fact considering how Sansa was introducing them. 

A tug on her shirt sleeve drew her attention. Brienne turned and was relieved to see Pod, who was anxiously clutching a plastic cup filled with some kind of luminous blue alcopop. “Hello Pod!” she shouted over the music. He grinned in response and then gestured over to the living room. Brienne followed his finger and spotted Jaime’s golden head in the midst of a large crowd of giggling girls who seemed to be trying to get him to dance. Jaime’s look of mild terror would have been amusing if Brienne hadn’t felt an unfamiliar and unwelcome stab of jealousy at the sight. 

“Is that the coma guy?!” cried Pod. 

Brienne shook her head in embarrassment. “No! That’s Jaime!” 

Pod’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced again in Jaime’s direction. “Oh I see! Well, I can see why the other guy may not be holding your attention.” 

“Pod!” chastised Brienne, her cheeks getting hotter by the second. 

“Why did you bring him?” Pod asked with interest as he stood on his tiptoes to reach Brienne’s ear. 

“I didn’t! He followed me here!” 

Pod pulled a face, but quickly schooled his features into bland amiability as he glanced over her shoulder. Brienne frowned and turned to see what he was looking at. Jaime was standing right next to her, looking slightly rumpled from the mauling he’d had from the clutching women. Brienne flushed at his proximity, especially as his eyes quickly raked down her carefully chosen outfit. _No point wishing I’d worn something else - this is as good as it gets._ They stood awkwardly for a few moments before Brienne made a sudden surge to the table burdened with booze. She hastily grasped a plastic cup and filled it to the brim with a lurid orange punch that had a scribbled warning about its lethality pinned to its container. She gratefully gulped it down, hoping that it would calm her troubled nerves. 

“I think that punch has booze in it.” 

Jaime’s honeyed voice in her ear almost made her spill her drink all over the floor. She shot him a surprised look and took another gulp of her drink. His eyes were almost… concerned. “I guessed,” she said, gesturing a wild arm in the direction of the sign that red ‘Warning! This will rot your brain!!!!!!’. 

Jaime frowned. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be having any.” 

Brienne gave him her best scowl. _Why the hell not? Who does he think he is?_ “ It’s New Year’s Eve! Why shouldn’t I have a drink if I want one?” she demanded, emptying her cup of the last dregs of the punch, which was already beginning to trickle through her system. Jaime said something in reply, but she couldn’t hear him over the music, which had been turned up so loud that the very foundations of the house seemed to shake. 

“WHAT?” she yelled. “I can’t hear you!” 

“I SAID,” Jaime roared over the music. “IT’S NOT GOOD FOR THE BABY!” 

As Sod’s Law would have it, at that very moment the music cut out as Sansa fiddled with the playlist and Brienne found herself subjected to the stares of every single person in the house. 

_Please ground swallow me up and never let me out._

*** 

“I said I’m sorry! It was a mistake!” 

Brienne tried her best to block out Jaime’s voice as she hurtled out of the house and down the street, roughly pulling her old coat on to shield her from the icy cold, although her cheeks were so warm she probably wouldn’t have felt it anyway. 

“Please, Brienne, slow down!” 

Brienne did nothing of the kind, but Jaime managed to catch up with her anyway. She did her best to ignore him, turning towards the door of her building with determined steps. 

“Brienne, I was just acting on what I was told! Myrcella said she’d heard that you were pregnant!” 

There was desperation and apology in his voice, but Brienne didn’t feel in a very forgiving mood. “And you believed her? I’ve never been so embarrassed - and that’s saying something from me. You said… _that_ … in front of all my friends!” 

Jaime grabbed her arm and forced her to stop. “I shouldn’t have done, I know, but what with that and the Hyle Hunt thing…” 

Brienne spun on the spot to face him. _Not Hyle bloody Hunt again!_ “What Hyle Hunt thing?” she spat, her embarrassment slipping into anger. 

Jaime had the sense to look uncomfortable. “Before the party… I saw you and him together…” 

Brienne frowned. “Yeah? He gave me some flowers, _as a friend_. What of it?” 

Jaime cocked an eyebrow. “As a friend? And what about after he gave you the flowers?” 

Brienne shook her head in exasperated puzzlement. “After? I hugged him and then he left. What of it?” 

“You ‘hugged’ him? It looked more than that to me.” Jaime’s voice had lowered and his eyes had narrowed, and Brienne was acutely aware that she was under the full intensity of his gaze. 

“More than a hug? I don’t understand!” Brienne’s head was pounding from the punch and her irritation. 

“Yes, more than a hug. A hug is a brief moment between two friends. _This_ was what you were actually doing...” 

Brienne let out an involuntary gasp as Jaime’s strong arms suddenly encircled her, pulling her close against his chest. Her breath came out in strangled gulps as her punch-sodden brain finally registered that his face was mere inches from her own. She was so close she could feel the soft caress of his warm breath on her cheek, and if she looked carefully, she could make out little golden flecks in the deep sea-green of his eyes. “I wasn’t…” she began weakly, but she couldn’t finish as her words were taken away by the change in Jaime’s expression. It had softened all of a sudden and his eyes moved slowly and searchingly across her face, taking in every feature. She felt exposed under such a gaze, but also mesmerised by it for it was as though someone was seeing her for the first time. Finally, his gaze dropped to her lips and Brienne felt a curious warmth bloom in her chest. _Is he going to kiss me again?_

“Brienne! Is that guy bothering you?” 

At the sound of Hyle’s voice Jaime snapped away from her, quickly dropping his arms and moving a pace or two away from where she was left standing on wobbly legs. She ran a shaking hand through her short, mussed hair and gave Hyle what she hoped was a confident smile. “No, he’s not bothering me. It’s fine Hyle.” 

Hyle stood in the courtyard, his hands on his wide hips in an attempt to look intimidating, a look that was somewhat ruined by the crooked party hat that sat atop his head. “Are you sure? I know martial arts you know,” he called. 

Brienne smothered a hysterical laugh. “I’m fine, really. Thank you though.” 

Hyle’s chest puffed in the wake of her thanks, but after a couple more seconds of posturing he eventually turned away and went back inside the building. Brienne let out a shaky laugh and chanced a look at Jaime. His face was closed, but she could tell he was agitated by the way he kept running his left hand through his shining mane of hair. Brienne waited and kept her eyes on him until he had mastered control of himself. 

“I’m sorry Brienne. I shouldn’t have said those things. It’s just that…” Jaime trailed off but kept his eyes fixed on her face. 

Brienne folded her arms defensively. “It’s just what?” she demanded. 

"Well... truth be told, you're not really Renly's type." 

Hot white pain shot like a beacon through Brienne’s mind. “Oh? Then whose type am I?” she snapped in reply, her own anger lacing her words. As expected, silence ensued. _Of course - it must be so hard to believe… I mean, why would anyone want Big Brienne? No man would ever want someone with a horse face like me_. Hot tears began to prick at her eyes so she blinked furiously to keep them at bay. 

Jaime still noticed, and made to take a step towards her, his hand extended. “Brienne…” 

“Goodnight Jaime,” she said abruptly while moving away from him. He looked as though he wanted to say something else but Brienne cut him off by marching into her building and slamming the door shut. As she entered her room, fireworks welcoming the new year began to boom and crackle. But while the rest of the city celebrated with kisses and champagne, Brienne gave herself to quiet sobs that shook her body. 

_Happy New Year_.


	10. Nice to meet you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get much, much worse for Brienne...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings!!! Sorry for the long, long delay. I was away for the weekend and then my Notebook failed me. It's all powered up now though, so I managed to edit this chapter. On the plus side, I realised that I had somehow miscounted my chapters, and instead of there being twelve, there are actually thirteen! So at least that is a bonus.
> 
> Thank you for your patience and love during the wait!

Since when had his bed become so uncomfortable? One would think that after paying hundreds of pounds for mattress you would feel as though you were being coddled in the arms of heaven itself. So why was he so stiff? His body was heavy and aching, and now that he thought about it, his throat was as dry as the desert at midday. His arm twitched as his woolly brain thought about reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table, but beyond that it wouldn’t move. _I must be hungover… if so, this is the worst bloody hangover in history._

Strange sounds now began to filter through - there was a rhythmic beeping and a low hum, which seemed to be coming from right next to his bed. _My alarm?_ In irritation he slowly wrenched his gummy eyes open. His vision was blurred so he screwed his eyes shut again to try and clear them. This time when he opened them he received a clearer, if no less confusing sight. Above him were worn, cheap tiles that housed garish strip fluorescent lighting that cast a sickly glow onto his face. _That’s not my ceiling…_ Turning his head painfully to the side he saw an inexpensive red plastic chair that had been pushed away at an angle from the bed as if someone had been sitting in it to watch him. His heart began to thud a little faster as panic and confusion set in. _Where am I?_ Fearfully, he looked down his body. He was encased in white sheets - _a shroud?_ \- and in his arms little tubes and wires poked out of his pallid skin. Realisation set in, alongside full-blown panic. 

_What happened to me?!_

*** 

Brienne’s heart was hammering furiously in her chest as she raced into the hospital - a call from the nurse’s station had woken her from her troubled sleep and she’d had trouble understanding the short message given to her by the nurse: “The doctor would like to give you an urgent update on Mr Baratheon - can you please come to the hospital?”. Once her words had finally been computed, Brienne threw back her warm covers and pulled on the first clothes her trembling fingers had snatched up. _Is he dying? What’s happened?_ Questions buzzed continually around her head, but no answers would come to her until she made it onto the ward. 

Breathless and red in the face, Brienne charged onto the ward that had housed Renly since the day of his accident. She was in such a hurry she almost knocked over the entire Baratheon family (plus Tyrion), who were looking as rumpled and strangely-outfitted as her. 

“What’s happened? Have they said anything to you yet?” gasped Brienne to Robert. She was met with a surprisingly beaming smile. 

“He’s awake Brienne! He opened his eyes!” 

Brienne crumpled in relief - but then the reality hit her. _He’s awake… And he has no idea who I am._   

“Oh God, that’s great news!” she gushed in a stuttering voice. “But I… I have something to tell you. I’m not…” 

“Pregnant? We know - Jaime called us.” 

Brienne blinked in confusion and was about to insist that she had something _else_ to tell them, but just then a wizened doctor bustled over to them and announced that they could go in to see Renly. The entire mass of the Baratheon family immediately turned away from Brienne and began to herd themselves towards Renly’s room. Brienne tried to follow but found that her legs had turned to jelly, making walking utterly impossible. Instead she sank onto a nearby seat and stared ahead of her in a dazed panic as her body shook with adrenaline. In the periphery of her vision she spotted Tyrion coming towards her but she was unable to turn her head to acknowledge him. In silence he took her hand and patted it sympathetically. “What the hell am I going to do?” she hissed at him in an undertone, finally turning to look at him. 

Tyrion smiled reassuringly. “Don’t fret,” he murmured.. “I’ll explain everything - I’ll be right behind you.” 

Brienne drew in a shuddering breath. _This is it…_ “OK,” she breathed. She slowly brought herself back up to a standing position and moved warily towards Renly’s room, Tyrion following close behind her. She was about to open the door when it was ripped open and Myrcella’s shining face appeared in the gap. 

“There you are Brienne! Come on, the doctor is about to wake him up!” Before Brienne could reply, her hand was seized by the excited girl and she was bodily dragged inside the room. 

Behind her, Tyrion closed the door quietly and sauntered down the corridor, whistling cheerfully to himself. 

***   

_Where the hell has Tyrion gone?_ Brienne looked around the room frantically, but Tyrion and his ironic smile were strangely absent. _I’ll kill him!_

Myrcella still had a surprisingly strong grip on her hand so she was powerless to resist being pulled over to Renly’s bedside. The rest of the family were fanned out around the bed, all but Cersei looking eager to see Renly’s eyes open. Brienne’s pulse was so loud in her ears she could barely make out the doctor’s words. 

“... we’ve started to run some tests, and so far all brain and body function seems to be completely normal. However, he is very disoriented, so try not to overwhelm him. He had quite a shock when he woke up.” 

Brienne tried to slow her breathing in a vain attempt to stay calm. Myrcella was still holding her hand and she desperately hoped that the girl couldn’t feel her trembling. In horrified fascination, she watched as the doctor leaned over Renly’s prone form and gently shook his shoulder. 

“Renly, your family is here,” he said gently as the man’s eyes began to flicker. Slowly, as if every second was an age, Renly opened his eyes. Brienne was struck anew by how blue they were, even if they were slightly unfocused to begin with. After a few furious blinks the fog seemed to clear, and Renly’s face broke into a slow, lazy smile. 

“Robert… Stannis… it’s good to see you,” he croaked. 

Robert grinned in response while Stannis gave a characteristically colder nod of recognition. Slowly, Renly turned his gaze from his brothers to their wives, both of whom wore slightly bored expressions. Renly then gave a warm grin to Tommen, Shireen and Myrcella, who chirped happy greetings. 

“What’s being in a coma like?” asked Tommen with immense curiosity. 

“Very boring,” replied Renly in a stronger voice. “It’s just like being in a very deep sleep.” He frowned suddenly. “Although I had some strange dreams…” 

And then his eyes rose to Brienne. 

A puzzled frown crossed Renly’s face and Brienne’s heart, which had been pounding, now completely stilled. 

“Who are you?” 

Brienne watched as everyone’s gaze turned to her in confusion. She tried to say something, anything, but her mouth merely imitated that of a fish out of water. 

“My God,” boomed Robert after a moment, and Brienne knew that the end was near. This family fairytale was going to explode once and for all. 

“He’s got amnesia!” he roared, and all of a sudden attention was switched back to the doctor, leaving Brienne sagging with relief or guilt – she wasn’t sure which. 

_Well done,Brienne. Now you really are in one hell of a mess._

***   

“Amnesia?” repeatedly Renly weakly. 

“Yes! Bloody amnesia!” boomed Robert. “That’s Brienne! You must remember her!” 

“She is your _beloved_ fiancée after all,” cut in Cersei, who was relishing the scene with malicious enjoyment. 

“My fiancée?” parroted Renly again. He was looking back and forth between his brother and Brienne in utter confusion, his face pinched with anxiety. 

“Look at her, man!” counselled Robert. “Doesn’t she seem at all familiar?” 

Renly turned his magnificent blue eyes on Brienne, causing her to squirm under his scrutiny. “I...I guess she does look a little familiar,” he finally offered. 

Robert turned his bullish body towards the doctor. “Doc, he must have amnesia, mustn’t he? I mean, if he can’t even remember his own fiancée?”   

The doctor trembled slightly. “Well, it certainly is possible…” he conceded. 

“But then why does he remember the rest of us and not Brienne?” cut in Stannis sharply. 

The doctor floundered for a moment before regaining his composure. “The brain is a very complex organ - there is such a thing as selective amnesia, where the brain loses just parts of its memory. This could be the case here. We will have to run some tests.” 

Brienne had heard enough. She gently disengaged Mrycella’s hand and then slipped out of the door and into the corridor. As she took a steadying breath she spied Tyrion strutting down the corridor, a smug smile firmly in place. Brienne stormed over to him and pushed him into a conveniently empty waiting room. 

“Where have you been?” she all but snarled at him, her frustration, embarrassment and fear feeding into her voice. 

Tyrion smiled insouciantly. “I had to go to the bathroom!” he protested, holding up his hands in mock surrender. 

“The bathroom?” cried Brienne in incredulity. “Well that’s just perfect. Now everyone thinks that Renly has amnesia because, surprise, surprise, he has absolutely no idea who I am!” 

Tyrion put a suitably sympathetic expression onto his face. “Now, now. Calm down. Why don’t you go home? I’ll sit everyone down tomorrow when they are less excited and I will explain everything. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” 

Brienne continued to huff and puff for a few more moments before reluctantly nodding her head. “Alright. But you will tell them, won’t you? You said I had to maintain this charade until he woke up, and that moment has now arrived.” 

Tyrion nodded. “I will tell them exactly what they need to know, don't you worry. Now go home and back to bed. It’s been an exciting morning.” 

Brienne shot him a parting glare and then stomped out of the waiting room, her mind whirling in a way that was beginning to give her the world’s worst headache. Behind her, Tyrion snickered before uncrossing his fingers, which had been hidden behind his back in a childish gesture of defiance. 

“Not to fear, Brienne,” he said to the empty room. “You’ll soon be one of the family for real - I’ll make sure of it.”


	11. Will you...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion has a plan, Jaime is jealous, and Brienne gets herself into an even deeper hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos on the last chapter - it made me smile! For those of you who are desperate to see this mess resolved, I'm afraid you will have to wait a little longer...

Renly had been awake for two days and Tyrion was waiting impatiently for the rest of the family to end their latest visit. He was meant to be returning home today - his quiet country pile and Shae, his secret long-term lover, were waiting without patience for his homecoming, but matters here needed his attention first. He'd already delayed to formulate his plan, and now it was time to put it into action.

Since Tyrion had found out that Brienne was not, in fact, Renly’s fiancée, he’d been beset by a confusing mix of emotions. On the one hand, he did feel the wrongness of her falsehood, but hearing her heartfelt confession in the hospital had awoken his compassion, and getting to know her more had confirmed that she was an artless, kind and generous person who was also suffering from acute loneliness. Tyrion liked her enormously and secretly thought that she was an asset to the family - the gatherings he’d been forced to attend over the Christmas period had been significantly easier to bear with her quiet and kindly presence, and she’d completely won him over when she very obviously took Jaime’s side at Cersei's dinner. He’d also noted that she got on spectacularly well with Tommen and Myrcella. He trusted the judgement of children, and their fondness for their new-found ‘aunt’ was a clear sign that Brienne was essentially a good person. 

It was also clear to him that her affection and concern for Renly was real, which filled him with pity. He very much doubted that a man such as Renly would ever look twice at someone like Brienne, although he was by far the kindest and most personable Baratheon brother. He also had a long-running suspicion that Renly did not necessarily chase women, although he certainly conveyed that image. But perhaps there was still a way to secure for Brienne the family she so desperately wanted and the companionship of a man she clearly liked? Tyrion rarely felt moved by the plights of others, but those he cared about he defended and supported with the might of a lion. For years, Jaime was the only one who fell within this circle of concern, but his niece and nephew (screw that boy Joffrey) had now nuzzled their way in, along with Shae, of course. 

But to his surprise he now found himself wanting to help Brienne, too. Perhaps it was because he recognised her as a fellow misfit and maybe he felt pity for her because, unlike him, she didn’t have a protective sibling. Jaime had always stood up for his younger brother, and Tyrion loved him for it. He’d been only too glad to repay some of the debt by supporting Jaime after his accident. 

But what to do about Brienne? Well, he had a plan. It was a preposterous one - stupid, even - but he was willing to give it a try. 

“You must remember Brienne!” boomed Robert to a beleaguered looking Renly in yet another senseless attempt to stir Renly’s non-existent memory. 

Renly looked pained. “I don’t… I mean, I suppose she looks _vaguely_ familiar…” 

“Ah! It’s coming back!” roared Robert triumphantly. 

Renly frowned. “No! It’s not coming back! I do not know her at all… I remember everything except her.” Annoyance and confusion flashed across his face, and Tyrion decided that the young man had been upset enough for one day. 

“Now, now,” he cut in. “The doctor will surely have some answers for us once the test and scan results come back. Perhaps it's time for us to leave Renly in peace? After all, he's still recovering.” 

Renly flashed him a grateful look while Robert huffed and puffed before finally stomping into the corridor. Stannis narrowed his eyes a little but began to direct his daughter towards the exit. Tyrion followed the other stragglers out before stopping and theatrically raising his hand to his head. “Oh! I forgot, there were some matters I needed to discuss with Renly. I shall see you back at home.” 

Stannis narrowed his eyes to thin slits. “What matters?” he barked. 

Tyrion gifted him with his best smile. “Oh nothing really important… It’s just that Robert gave me Renly’s mail to sort through as he was too stressed and anxious to look through it himself, and there are some things I need Renly to answer.” 

Stannis glared at Robert for letting their brother’s private business be examined by an outsider - for that is what Tyrion was and always would be - while Robert shifted uncomfortably under his flinty gaze. 

“Enough of that Stannis. I've had enough on my plate,” huffed Robert. “We’ll see you at home Tyrion.” And with that, he moved with astonishing speed down the corridor towards the lifts. Tyrion kept his smile in place as Stannis glared at him for a final time. Eventually he turned away and directed his daughter down the corridor. Sighing, Tyrion closed the door and heaved himself onto the uncomfortable plastic chair that stood beside Renly’s bed. 

Renly turned his pale, tired face towards him and gave him a wan smile. “What is it you need me to do? Are there bills or something?” 

Tyrion smiled charmingly and shuffled his chair closer to Renly in a conspiratorial manner. “Well, what I want you to _do_ , my dear fellow, is to think long and hard about Brienne.” 

Renly rolled his eyes and flopped back against the pillows. “It seems that all I’ve heard about since I woke up is ‘Brienne this’ and ‘Brienne that’.” 

Tyrion sighed. “You're surprised by that? She saved your life for heaven’s sake!” 

Renly blinked. “She did?” 

“Yes! She gallantly jumped on the tracks in front of an oncoming train and saved you. Doesn’t that deserve some kind of recognition?” 

Renly wriggled under his covers. “Well, of course. I’m not ungrateful. It’s just that… she can’t possibly be my fiancée.” 

Tyrion raised his bushy eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh? How so?” _Oh I do love making him uncomfortable. This is priceless… Jaime is missing an absolute treat._

“Well…” Renly swallowed and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “I think, at least I seem to remember, that I… I’m gay.” 

Tyrion chuckled inwardly as Renly blushed in a manner that would have put Brienne’s efforts to shame. _Another win for the Tyrion School of Deduction._ “Gay? Surely not,” he retorted. 

Renly frowned. “I’m serious, Tyrion.” 

“Hmmm… well that doesn’t explain why you would propose to Brienne, does it? Perhaps you’re bi - have you ever thought about that?” 

Renly looked nonplussed. “Bi?” 

“Yes!” declared Tyrion. “After all, you've been with all of those women, haven't you?” _Oh watch him squirm!_ “And now you have found a wonderful woman who I’m sure will make you very happy. And you’re perfectly right to snap her up. It’s time you settled down and found a devoted partner to share your life with.” 

Renly rolled his eyes like a small child being lectured to. “And my brothers are perfectly happy with their wives, aren't they? Hell, even Stannis has had an affair!” 

_And another suspicion confirmed._ “That's because your brothers made the wrong choice,” Tyrion argued. “Listen, Brienne’s going to visit you sometime later today, and when she does, I want you to look into those big, blue eyes of hers and see if you can’t see what a beautiful, generous and kind person she is. Hell, it only took us seconds to see. And if I was two feet taller and didn’t have an outrageously jealous Frenchwoman waiting to castrate me when I get home, I’d marry her myself.” Tyrion paused again and saw that Renly was deep in thought. 

“But what if I can’t?” Renly protested plaintively, knotting his fingers together where they lay on top of the scratchy hospital sheets. 

Tyrion sighed. “Well… then tell her you want to break up! Say that the amnesia is unlikely to go and that you don’t want to keep her waiting for something that will never happen. But I think that when you take the time to see her as we all do, then you will be begging her to marry you.” Tyrion smiled and patted Renly’s arm before sliding off the world’s most uncomfortable chair. “See you tomorrow!” he called with a cheery wave. He took one last look at poor Renly’s bewildered face and then strolled out of the hospital room. _Well, I’ve done all I can. Either way, Brienne gets her get-out clause, although I do hope that Renly gives her what she so deserves - a family._ Pleased with his progress, Tyrion whistled as he dug out his phone from the depths of his pocket and typed out a quick text. 

**Tyrion: The clan have been and gone. If you want to pay Renly a visit, now is the perfect time.**

He chuckled to himself. Yes, if he had laid his cards right, they could all be attending a wedding very soon... 

*** 

Jaime was surprised when he entered Renly’s room to see a flurry of activity there. He strode over to the bed and raised a questioning eyebrow at Renly. “What’s going on?” 

Renly smiled tiredly as he was helped into a wheelchair. “Nice to see you Jaime. I’m being moved to another ward – it seems I’m out of the woods, even though I apparently have amnesia.” 

Jaime smiled grimly. “Well that's good news, isn't it?” 

Renly merely shrugged and nestled down deeper into the wheelchair like a bird gone to roost. Jaime stopped the nurse who was about to wheel Renly out of the room. “Don't worry, I'll take him,” he offered. 

The nurse smiled at the handsome, helpful man. “Oh thank you! He's going to the third floor. The Butterfly Ward.” 

Renly snorted at the name. “And like a tired caterpillar, I shall eventually emerge from my chrysalis as a new being, although perhaps still devoid of all my memories.” Jaime made a face at the nurse over Renly's head and proceeded to direct the wheelchair and its grumpy occupant into the corridor. 

They went along in silence for a few moments before Renly shocked Jaime out of his glum reverie. 

“What do you think of Brienne?” he asked. 

“Brienne?” Jaime asked carefully. _Shit, has someone seen something? Have they told Renly?_

“Yes… we're to be married you know.” 

“I heard,” Jaime answered, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice. 

“I'm sure she's someone special – well, she must be, otherwise I wouldn't have proposed to her,” Renly continued, blissfully unaware of Jaime's darkening expression behind him. “And she saved my life. That's definitely special. But this damned memory loss is a pain – I can't remember a thing about her, so please, tell me what you think.” 

_Fuck._ “Brienne is...” _Incredible, funny, supportive… has the longest legs in history and eyes that are bluer than a summer sky._ “Well, she's probably one of the kindest people I've ever met. And she has the patience of an absolute saint. She also sticks up for her friends, and always rushes to the defense of the underdog.” He laughed. “And she's fun, even when she's mad at you and bright red in the face. And she has all these hopes and dreams – you know, she wanted to be a gladiator when she was little. And she has a huge bucket list of places she wants to see, but she never seems to muster up the courage to just get up and go. It's maddening, – you don't know whether to shake her, or hug her because she's just so damn...” _Loveable._

“Hmmm,” hummed Renly, deep in thought. “No, that's not it. That's not what makes her special. But I know she must be – and I've got the rest of my life to find out.” 

Jaime grunted and released the wheelchair to press the button of the lift. Renly continued to blather on, unaware of Jaime's increasing irritation. “I may not find out today, or tomorrow…” he rambled, “but sometime I will figure it out and I'll remember why I wanted her to be a part of my life. After all, I suppose it _is_ time for me to settle down...” 

Renly continued to voice his train of thought and Jaime found he couldn't take it any more. Abruptly, he abandoned Renly and marched up the corridor, leaving his charge to continue to talk to the empty corridor until a sympathetic nurse took pity on him and finally wheeled him into the waiting lift. 

*** 

Renly looked around his new ward with satisfaction. He still had a private room, and this one was significantly more 'homely' than his quarters in ICU. A few bland but colourful pictures hung on the wall, and a selection of cards from well-wishers adorned a little bedside table. The sheets were also much less scratchy. 

Of course, he was a little perturbed by the fact that Jaime seemed to have vanished into thin air. He'd had quite the shock when an airy female voice had answered him in the lift. He'd spun his head round in search of Jaime but he was nowhere to be seen. He'd opened his mouth to ask the nurse whether she'd seen him, but then he snapped it shut. There was a possibility that his bruised brain had conjured Jaime up, and he didn't want to risk being wheeled back down to ICU. Instead, he kept his trap shut and exchanged pleasantries with the nurse. 

Another bonus of being out of ICU was that it was noticeably quieter and calmer, perfect for recuperation - and thinking. He had a lot of that to do. After Tyrion's little 'pep talk' he'd started to seriously consider his life and where it was heading. He now looked forward to Brienne's visit and was determined to make up for his rudeness the other day. He also owed her thanks for saving his silly life. 

He was just ruminating on exactly what to say when the door to his new room banged open. _Will I ever get peace?_. Renly was more than a little surprised when none other than Loras Tyrell walked in, his chestnut curls bouncing as the raging man barrelled towards his bed. 

"Loras! What are you doing here?" _I haven't seen you for months..._

"You're engaged? To a _woman_?" Loras seethed. 

_Straight to the point as ever_. "Yes," replied Renly with a serene smile. "Her name is Brienne." 

"I don't give a shit about what her name is," Loras ranted, his cheeks reddening from emotion. "Since when do you screw women, let alone marry them?" 

Renly shrugged nonchalantly. "I think I must be bi. I can't really remember to be honest - I have amnesia." 

"Amnesia?" Loras spat. "Then perhaps you have forgotten that you proposed to me?" 

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I remember proposing to you. I also remember you running from my flat and moving in with your brother - in Berlin." 

Loras jerked back as though he had been slapped. "I did not _run away_. You surprised me and I needed space to think!" 

"Space? You've been gone for _months_!" 

Loras looked uncomfortable. "I had a lot to think about! Things were moving so fast..." 

Renly shrugged. "Well, now they're not moving at all. I'm with Brienne now." 

Loras's eyes blazed with anger and jealousy. "You think she will make you happy? You think playing happy families and pleasing your brothers will mean everything falls into place? Well, it won't. You're a fool Renly, and so is that pathetic woman you're marrying." 

Renly balled his fists. "It's a bit late to be jealous, Loras. You should have had me when you had the chance. And in future, you will refer to my betrothed as 'Brienne'. She saved my life and she deserves some respect." 

Loras leant forward, his eyes dark and stormy. "Fuck you," he hissed, before spinning round and storming back the way he had come. 

Renly flopped back against his pillows in exhaustion. _Well, that could have gone better..._

*** 

Brienne looked uncertainly at the text Tyrion had sent. She hadn't been to see Renly since he'd woken up. She'd hoped that he would at least remember her from the ticket boot at the tube station, but perhaps seeing her out of her uniform and in the clear light of day made her hard to place. Either way, it had hurt that he hadn't recognised her, and she was mortally embarrassed by the whole situation. 

She glanced again at Tyrion's text. Evidently he had still made no effort to tell the family and Renly the truth. What was he waiting for? Cold resolve began to sweep through Brienne – she'd just have to do it herself. This charade had gone on long enough. She would start by telling Renly – it would be easier while he was by himself, and maybe he would even take pity on her and explain her falsehood to his family. _In your dreams, Brienne._

Squaring her shoulders, Brienne picked up her things and strolled resolutely out of the door. _It will be a relief to have all of this over and out in the open, although I'm going to miss them all. Back to weekends and evenings alone on the sofa I suppose._

At the hospital Brienne was pleasantly surprised to find that Renly had been moved to a different ward – he was evidently making a good recovery. _And he will be even better when I tell him that he doesn't have selective amnesia._

As the lift swept her up to Renly's new ward, Brienne's heart began to thunder in her ears. _I can do this – just say it!_ Her hands were sweaty and she could hear her breath whistling out in a ragged rhythm. _Christ, jumping in front of that train was less frightening._ The lift finally sprung open and Brienne tiptoed over to Renly's new room. As she got closer, her resolve began to falter. _Please let him be asleep, please let him be asleep, please…_

Tentatively, she poked her head around the door. Renly's head instantly swept round and he greeted her with a beatific smile. _Shit._

“Brienne!” he cried with enthusiasm. “Please, come in!” 

Brienne reluctantly entered the room and stood before the bed, nervously winding and unwinding her fingers. 

“Won't you sit down?” asked Renly politely, gesturing to yet another uncomfortable plastic chair. 

Brienne sat down awkwardly and cleared her throat. “You're looking well,” she began feebly. 

Renly flashed her another one of the smiles she used to admire so much. “Yes, it seems I'm on the mend – thanks to you.” 

Brienne blushed. “Oh… Well, anyone would have done the same.” 

“On no!” he replied, leaning forward. “They wouldn't. What you did was truly heroic – and you did it for love.” 

Brienne blushed at his words. _Yes I did – a pathetic love borne from an unrealistic crush. Hell, this is the first proper conversation we've ever had!_

Renly didn't sense her embarrassment. “I don't think I've ever done anything truly heroic in my life,” he continued thoughtfully. 

“I'm sure that's not true,” she countered. _You've always been like a hero to me._

“I did chase a boy who snatched a lady's purse once.” 

“Well, there you go!” cried Brienne warmly. 

Renly grimaced. “I pretended to pull a muscle after 100 meters. I realised I had no idea what to do if I caught up to him.” 

Brienne's face fell a little. “Oh… well, at least you tried. That's more than most people would have done.” 

Renly snorted and turned his face away in self-disgust. “You're too kind, Brienne. I was a selfish man before this,” he said, gesturing around the hospital room. “All I cared about was wearing the best clothes, buying the best wine and food and being seen in all the right places.” He chuckled darkly. “And sleeping with all the wrong people, of course.” 

Brienne blushed. “Please… you don't have to tell me all this.” 

Renly snapped his gaze back to her and grabbed one of her large hands between his own, gripping it firmly. “But I do! Thanks to you, I've been given a second chance – I've got the opportunity to change my shallow, vain ways and make amends. I may not remember you, but I'd obviously realised that it was time to change. I'd proposed to you, and you cared enough about me to accept. I don't see why we should change that.” 

Brienne's eyes opened wide and she tried to extract her hand from Renly, who seemed to be holding onto her like his life depended on it. “Please… I need to tell you something...” she begged. 

Renly shook his head to silence her. “Brienne… Since I opened my eyes, all I have heard is praise of you, and it is clear that this praise is not exaggerated in any way. And you do remind me of someone, although I'm not sure who, but I don't need memories to know that you're special. I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, my family all love you. I… I may as well love you. Brienne – will you marry me?” 

_Oh holy buggering hell._


	12. Objections and revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne chooses the wrong path, Jaime buys a snowglobe, and Tyrion does some planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks! We are rapidly approaching the end! This chapter was loads of fun to write, so I hope it lives up to expectations.

“Brienne – will you marry me?”

_What?!_

Brienne's first instinct was to flee, so she leapt up, overturning her flimsy chair in the process, but Renly's grip on her hand was surprisingly strong and she found herself unable to move from her place beside his bed. 

“Say yes!” 

Brienne turned and realised to her horror that a gaggle of nurses and doctors were blocking the doorway, their eager faces trained on the romantic scene playing out in front of them. To her growing consternation, a chant started up. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” they crowed, their voices echoing through her numb and bewildered mind. 

Brienne snapped her gaze back to Renly, who was staring up at her with beseeching eyes. “Brienne...” he murmured, his voice soft and persuasive. She stared into his perfect cerulean eyes, trying her hardest to feel something, anything other than the blind panic that threatened to consume her. 

_I've dreamt about this moment so many times. I've imagined this beautiful man proposing in every possible way, and each time he did I felt filled with happiness. But I don't feel anything! This is my dream come true – this is a fairytale brought to life! Why aren't I happy? Why aren't I screaming with excitement?_

_He's the wrong man, that's why._

_I don't love him, and he doesn't love me. He doesn't know me. But why should I expect more? This is more than I could ever have hoped for. This should be enough for me. After all, I'm Big Brienne. No one wants me._

_Except maybe Jaime… No! He would never want me. I've only ever loved one-sided – why would this time be any different?_

_Oh fuck._

“SAY YES!!!” The cacophony had reached new heights and the audience at the door seemed to have tripled. Brienne couldn't think straight any more and her head was beginning to ring. Renly squeezed her hand, his face full of hope, and Brienne couldn't take it any more. 

“Yes… Yes I'll marry you.” 

*** 

Jaime tramped up the stairs to Brienne's flat. His legs were leaden and his heart was not much lighter. _You always knew they were going to get married – stop being an idiot._

He took a steadying breath outside her door before knocking on it sharply. There was the sound of someone hastily rushing towards the door, knocking over furniture and scaring a cat in the process. Muttered curses could be heard as the door was unlocked, causing a brief smile to flit across his face. 

The door eventually cracked open and Brienne's flushed face poked through the gap. 

“Oh! Hello Jaime,” she said in surprise, opening the door wider. “Sorry – I thought you may have been Hyle. He must have knocked on my door about ten times in the last couple of days.” She stepped back into the flat and waved him in. “Please, come in. Watch out for the cat though – I just accidentally stepped on her tail and she's not very happy.” 

Jaime grinned and swept past her into her cramped, homely flat. The coffee table was littered with old newspapers and magazines, and on the sofa was a heap of clothing. Curious, Jaime walked up to the pile and lightly fingered the fabric. They were wedding dresses. He swallowed and turned away. 

Brienne was blushing furiously. “Sorry about the mess. I was trying some things on,” she explained, gesturing towards the pile. 

“Any good?” he asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. 

Brienne huffed. “No. I hate dresses. And white makes me look like a ghost.” She sighed angrily and ran a hand through her mussed up hair. “One week really isn't enough time to prepare. I know Tyrion has taken over most of the planning, but sadly the dress is still up to me. I still don't know how he managed to wrangle a spot at the registry office at such short notice _and_ persuade the hospital to discharge Renly for the day.” 

“He dropped the Lannister name, I believe. Plus he's a persuasive fellow, as I'm sure you've noticed.” 

Brienne snorted. “Oh yes, I have certainly noticed.” She sighed and attempted to compose herself. “Can I get you a tea or coffee?” she asked politely. 

“No thanks,” he answered, tearing his eyes away from the dresses again. “I can't stay long. I just wanted to give you this.” He dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a small package roughly wrapped in old Christmas paper. “I thought I'd get in early with this before you got lost in piles of wedding presents. Sorry it's not wrapped very well – it's a bit of a challenge to package something with only one hand.” 

Brienne stepped towards him tentatively and took the parcel. “Thank you,” she said quietly, lightly fingering the wrapping. “Can I…?” 

Jaime smiled. “Sure, go ahead. It's nothing special, I'm afraid. I just saw it and thought of you.” 

Brienne began to gently tear the paper and pull out the enclosed object. Surprise and something else lit up her face as she held it up. “It's Rome...” she breathed, gently tipping the snow globe so that the little flakes of white scattered over the model of the Colosseum. She turned her happy face back to Jaime. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “It's perfect.” 

Jaime shifted awkwardly. “Like I said – it's nothing special.” 

“But it is!” she insisted. “It's a really thoughtful gift.” 

He mustered up another smile. “Well, I'm glad you like it. You can use it to hint to Renly that you'd like to go there for your honeymoon.” 

He wasn't sure, but it seemed as though some of the happiness slid out of Brienne's face. “Brienne...” he said, taking a step towards her. “Are you alright?” 

Instantly a bright smile reappeared on her face. “Oh yes, I'm fine,” she reassured him. “I'm just tired and stressed about the wedding.” 

Jaime frowned but backed off. “OK then. Well, I shall leave you to it.” He turned and headed back towards the door, but stopped as he went to turn the handle. “Brienne...” 

“Yes?” she answered, her head tilted to one side like an adorable oversized puppy. 

“Ditch the white. Wear blue instead – it will suit you much better.” Brienne's eyes opened wide in surprise but he didn't give her time to reply. He swiftly opened the door and began to charge down the first flight of stairs, but the sound of her voice stopped him mid-step. 

“Jaime wait!” 

He turned reluctantly and saw her standing awkwardly just outside her room. “Can you...” She swallowed nervously and seemed to be psyching herself up to say something. “Can you give me any reason why I shouldn't marry Renly?” 

Jaime blinked in astonishment. _Say it… Just say it! No, you idiot. She's not asking that – she wants to know if Renly really is a good man. This is what she wants – she was engaged before she met you. Let her go and be happy._

Jaime raised his eyes back to Brienne's, which were as bright and beautiful as the Caribbean sea. “No,” he answered softly. “I can't.” 

And with that he turned and resumed his headlong rush down the stairs. 

*** 

“What's this?” 

Brienne sighed. “Open it Pod, and then you'll find out.” 

Frowning, Pod ripped open the envelope and promptly choked on the coffee he'd just swallowed. “What?! This is a wedding invitation!” 

Brienne rolled her eyes and went over to the counter housing the tea and coffee-making facilities in their cramped staffroom. “Congratulations – you're the winner of this year's observance award,” she muttered sarcastically. 

Pod was still spluttering. “But this is _your_ wedding invitation! And it's tomorrow!” 

“Yes I know!” she snapped as she threw a teabag into a chipped mug. “And you know what? I wish it was today, because then I would already be Mrs Baratheon and I would finally have a family who loves me and a husband who will one day take me to Italy.” She choked back a sob and rested her hands on the counter-top as she fought to calm herself. 

“Mrs Baratheon…” murmured Pod in thought. “But I thought… I mean, what happened with the other guy?” 

Brienne drew in a shuddering breath and finally turned to face her friend, who was looking at her with worried sympathy. “He didn't want me,” she answered in a tight voice. And suddenly she couldn't hold back the tears. 

Pod immediately leapt up and enveloped her in a tight hug as she sobbed onto his shoulder. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked in a soothing voice. 

Brienne nodded. “Yes… I mean, when else am I likely to get such an offer? Renly is good, and kind… He will be a wonderful husband.” 

“Hmmm,” said Pod non-committally. “But do you love him?” 

“Of course.” She answered immediately. “I've loved him for ages.” _In my dreams, if not in reality._

Pod gave her a searching look, obviously not believing her. “Will you come?” she pleaded, dropping her eyes from his gaze. 

Pod sighed and gave her his best heartwarming smile. “Of course I'll be there!” he declared. “I will be the embarrassing one in an enormous hat who cries loudly throughout the service.” 

Brienne snickered through her tears and pulled him into another tight hug. “Thank you, Pod. You're the best.” 

*** 

_Oh God, I am going to be ridiculously, horrendously late. What if they think I've chickened out? Dammit, why isn't this car going faster?_

Sensing her unease, Sansa put a reassuring hand on her arm. “Don't worry, Brienne, we have plenty of time.” Brienne smiled tightly at her friend, who was acting as one of her bridesmaids and helping to keep her sane. She glanced across at her other companions on this torturous car ride. Shireen and Mrycella were bouncing in their seats and seemed as restless and nervous as Brienne, which didn't help to calm her nerves at all. 

She took a deep breath in an attempt to regain control of her trembling body. She felt as though she was going to be sick. Carefully, she smoothed down the silk of her dress. It was a beautiful ocean blue colour and was cut into a simple, straight silhouette that suited her boyish shape. She'd taken Jaime's advice to heart and taken back those ghastly white dresses the very next day. She'd also employed Sansa to act as a sounding board for other, better choices. The shop assistant had been a bit miffed when Brienne initially handed back the garments, and she was even more taken aback when Brienne had insisted on only viewing blue dresses, but eventually she had dug out some samples from the back of the shop, and Brienne had immediately fallen for the charms of this choice. 

“Brienne! We're nearly there!” cried Mrycella's excited voice. Brienne leaned forward to look through the window and saw that they were indeed approaching the grand building that housed the registry office. Nerves spiked through her and she again felt the urge to be sick all over her lovely dress and the expensive car hired by Tyrion. Sansa squeezed her hand. “Just think of how handsome Renly will be, Brienne. That will make you feel better.” 

_Unlikely._ Brienne gave her a wobbly smile and concentrated on her breathing. 

The car soon stopped and the driver jumped out to open the door for her and the bridesmaids. Brienne's legs were shaking and she had some trouble getting out. The silk whispered against her skin as she tumbled out onto the street and regained her footing. She gulped down big lungfuls of the icy January air, which helped to qwell her nausea somewhat. When she was ready, she slowly crept into the building and followed the path set by Sansa, who had designated herself as leader of the bridal group. 

All too soon, Brienne found herself hovering outside the door that led to the ceremony. She could hear the murmur of voices within and the sound of scraping chairs as people took their places. Her palms felt sweaty and her stomach was still churning. 

_I can't do this… I can't…_

Just then the music started up and the doors swung open, revealing her to the packed room. Her bridesmaids glided into the room gracefully, their bunches of winter roses held proudly before them. Brienne blinked in panic for a few moments before she found her feet moving sluggishly up the aisle. 

It seemed to her that the room was made of eyes. Everyone was staring at her – some kindly, others critically. Among the sea of irises she found the warm eyes of Pod, who gave her an awkward thumbs up. She smiled back at him, grateful for his presence and for the fact that he seemed to have forgotten the giant hat he had been threatening to wear. 

Then she looked up the aisle and met the eyes of her future husband. He was dressed dappishly in traditional wedding garb, including a navy blue waistcoat and a jacket with long tails. He looked handsome and nervous, as well as a little unsure. Brienne gave him a weak smile, but he didn't return it. Indeed, he quickly looked away from her and focused his gaze to the front where the registrar was waiting. Brienne sighed and allowed her eyes to travel to Renly's right. Her stomach tightened when she realised that Jaime was acting as Best Man – Robert had evidently proved to not be up for the task, for she saw him swaying slightly as he stood up in the front row, supported on one side by Stannis. 

Jaime's gaze seemed to burn through her, and she found herself fantasising that it was him, and not Renly, who was waiting for her at the end of the aisle. He looked tense and his jaw was tight, but unlike Renly, he kept his emerald eyes on her as she trudged up the aisle. She felt as though she was wading through a floor made of treacle and every step brought her inexorably towards a future she wasn't sure she wanted. 

She finally made it into position next to Renly and the music died down. There was an unsettling silence as people regained their seats and waited for the service to begin. Brienne flicked her eyes behind Renly and saw that Jaime was still staring at her, his expression inscrutable. Brienne only tore her eyes away when the registrar began to speak. 

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the registry house for the wedding of Renly Baratheon and Brienne Tarth. This place...” 

“I object.” 

Brienne clapped her hand over her mouth. The words had escaped unbidden, and now a shocked silence reigned. Brienne glanced at Renly and saw confusion writ clear across his face. 

_This has to end. NOW._

Brienne took a deep breath and turned to face Renly's family. Stannis, Robert and Tyrion were all sat in the front row, their faces a mixture of confusion, suspicion and dismay. Brienne felt her courage slipping as she faced them, but she knew she had to act. “I'm in love with your brother,” she began. 

Robert laughed throatily. “Oh, dear girl! We _know_ that! That's why we're here!” 

Brienne flushed. “No… not _your_ brother...” She shifted her eyes to Tyrion. “Your brother.” 

Tyrion's eyebrows disappeared completely into his hairline while Robert's jaw dropped to the floor. Stannis stared at her stonily, and behind him, Brienne could hear Cersei laughing merrily. She dared not look at Jaime. 

Robert had got his voice back and now his anger was evident. He stood and began bellowing at Jaime. “What have you done, you sneaky blonde bastard? Why have you been using that pretty face of yours to seduce my brother's fiancée?!” 

“Please! Please stop!” Brienne cried. “It's not his fault! He hasn't done anything – it's all me! I've been lying to you, all of you. I was never Renly's fiancée. I'd never properly met him before that day on the tracks. We were complete strangers. There was a misunderstanding at the hospital, and suddenly everything got completely out of hand. I wanted to tell you all the truth, but Tyrion counselled me against it...” 

Angry and shocked eyes now shifted to Tyrion, who maintained his nonchalant expression. 

“… But then I didn't want to tell you the truth any more,” Brienne continued, her voice becoming high and tight with unshed tears. “Because I fell in love with you – all of you. I had brothers, a sister, a niece, a nephew… I had a family, and that's something I haven't had in a really, really long time.” Brienne paused to wipe her hands furiously across her eyes. “And I'm sorry, so sorry that I've hurt and lied to you, and I know you will probably never forgive me, but I shall remember you all and hold your kindness, your acceptance and your love in my heart for the rest of my life.” 

Silence reigned absolute and Brienne took the opportunity to run towards the exit, her tears making finding the door quite difficult. Luckily everyone was in such a state of shock that they didn't move. Frantically, she reached for the door handle, only to have it wrenched from her grasp by someone opening the door from the other side. To her shock, a red-faced man rushed in, whom she recognised as Renly's friend from the hospital. 

“I object to this wedding!” he screeched as he marched up the aisle. “Renly proposed to me!” 

Gasps of surprise and scandal now rose in a wave. As Brienne blindly flung herself through the door, she caught the sound of Robert's booming baritone. “Who are you? And what the hell are you talking about?” 

Above the noise, Brienne could just make out Renly's calm voice. “Robert, this is Loras Tyrell – my former lover.” 

“Former? We never broke up! I didn't leave you! I was confused and I needed space to think. Only when I come back, I find that you're engaged to some ugly woman!” shouted Loras. 

“I don't understand!” roared Robert. “You proposed to a _man_?” 

“Yes Robert,” sighed Renly. “I'm gay – I always have been...” 

Brienne closed the door on the ensuing pandemonium and hurtled down the corridor to the exit. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and she could hardly see for the tears in her eyes. 

_It's over… it's finally all over. I'll never see Jaime again. It's over…_


	13. Setting things right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Tyrion deal with the fall-out, the head of the Lannister family calls Jaime in, and Brienne tries to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS IT! THE END AT LAST!
> 
> Thank you to all who have patiently (or not so patiently :-) ) waited for the conclusion of this fluffy goodness. This has been so much fun to write and I have absolutely loved reading all of your comments. You have also been very generous with the kudos points, so thank you. 
> 
> We've put poor Brienne through the grinder over the course of this fiction, so I hope this conclusion is satisfying for you. I also hope that this has inspired you to either re-watch or discover the true 'While you were sleeping' film. It really did translate into a JB story with ease.
> 
> Once again, thank you and enjoy.

The welcome sound of clinking glass was the only thing that broke Jaime's restless pacing in his flat. He paused and glanced over to Tyrion, who was helping himself to a rather large glass of whisky from Jaime's decanter. “You'd better be pouring one of those for me as well,” he growled. Tyrion rolled his eyes and quickly poured another helping into a glass.

“As if I wouldn't,” replied Tyrion in mock hurt. 

Jaime glared at him and snatched the glass away, quickly downing its contents. “I don't even know why I am talking to you, let alone allowing you to drink my booze – I should throw you out like the others.” 

Tyrion rolled his eyes theatrically and sank down onto a plush black leather sofa. “Fortunately for me, I am your beloved baby brother and you would hate to see me fending for myself, no matter what my crimes are.” He took a lingering sip of his drink. “Besides, you're not that outraged by what I've done.” 

Jaime spun round and fixed his brother with a stern look. “Oh aren't I?” he snapped with barely suppressed rage. “You've been playing a ridiculous charade with us all, and worst of all, you manipulated Brienne into keeping it up. Can’t you see what you’ve done to her? She was completely broken.” 

“Ah,” said Tyrion with a maddening smile. “And now we get to the real root cause of your anger – Brienne. If I'd have known that you were secretly seducing her, I would have played my cards differently.” 

Jaime fumed. “I did not seduce her, no matter what Robert thinks.” 

“Well you obviously did something,” mused Tyrion. “Women don’t usually declare their love for another man in front of a packed congregation who are patiently waiting for a wedding to go ahead.” He paused and took another lingering sip of his drink, rolling the malty flavour around his mouth. “I must say that I'm surprised, and more than a little shocked that I didn't see it, although she is so far from your usual floozy bimbo preference that perhaps I can't be blamed for what was evidently right before my face. At least it now explains your coyness over Christmas about your mystery interest.” 

Jaime glared at him but said nothing, choosing instead to resume his pacing. Tyrion chuckled to himself. “I must say, I think that has to be one of my favourite family outings – I thought Robert was going to explode when the Tyrell boy came in.” Tyrion waited for Jaime to join him in his mirth, but he continued to ignore him. “For God's sake, Jaime,” Tyrion groaned. “Sit down and relax. You're exhausting my eyes with this continual to-ing and fro-ing.” 

Jaime ran a tired hand over his face and reluctantly flopped down into an armchair. “God, poor Brienne,” he murmured. “I hope she's not on her own. She must be devastated. I should have gone after her straight away, but so much was going on…” 

Tyrion tilted his head to one side quizzically. “You really do care for her, don't you?” Jaime shot him an angry look and didn't reply. Tyrion laughed again. “My, my, I never thought I'd see the day that you were unmanned by a giantess.” 

Jaime's head snapped up. “Don't call her that or I will throw you out on the street.” 

Tyrion raised his hands in mock supplication. “All right, all right. It’s a little hypocritical though, isn’t it, considering the names you’ve called her?” 

Jaime narrowed his eyes at him. “You don't feel one shred of guilt, do you?” 

Tyrion raised his eyes to the ceiling in apparent deep thought. “No, not really,” he finally confessed. “Well, I am very upset about distressing Brienne, of course, but I did think I was doing her and Renly a kind turn – she would have had a reasonably kind and entertaining husband and a wonderful family complete with a handsome brother-in-law,” he drawled, indicating himself, “and Renly would have gained someone who would give him a bit of backbone and a healthy dose of realism. Instead, you have scuppered all of my plans and now Brienne is alone in her flat and Renly is dealing with the fall-out of having been forced to come out of the closet in front of all his nearest and dearest.” 

Jaime groaned and sank his head into his hands. “This is such a mess...” 

“Now that’s probably the understatement of the century,” quipped Tyrion. 

Jaime sent another incensed glare in his brother’s direction and then stood up abruptly, grabbing his crumpled wedding suit jacket off the back of a chair. 

“And where are you going?” asked Tyrion in confusion. 

Jaime shot his brother a determined look. “I'm going to go and make sure Brienne’s OK, what does it look like?” 

Tyrion sighed. “Sit down Jaime! Do you really think she will want you barging in on her at this time of night? It's practically tomorrow already.” 

“I should never have let her leave on her own,” Jaime responded as he shrugged his jacket on. 

“Brother, you could hardly race after her when the Baratheon family was in the middle of a catastrophic meltdown. She probably wants to be left alone for a while.” 

Jaime glared at his brother. “And let her think I don’t care? What an excellent idea! I’m sure that would make her feel so much better.” 

Tyrion sighed. “Jaime - it’s late. You’re exhausted, she’s exhausted. You’re also heading towards a wonderful state of intoxication - I hardly think going over there for a rational conversation now would be the best plan of action.” 

“And why should I listen to any advice you give? You did such a good job with Brienne, after all,” Jaime seethed. 

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. “Because in this situation you know I’m right.” 

Jaime stood stock still, his body poised for movement while he made up his mind. Eventually the tension left his body and he sagged back down into his armchair. “I suppose you're right – it is late,” he finally conceded. “But I am going over there first thing tomorrow morning.” 

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” 

“Why?” Jaime asked, his voice dripping with venom. 

Tyrion settled against the sofa. “I'm afraid Father has summoned you. My phone contains at least 100 expletive-ridden messages demanding to know where you are and why you haven't answered your phone all day. I'm afraid he requires your presence tomorrow morning, or else. It's touching really – I don't think he'd even notice if I went off the grid for a couple of months, but a day of radio silence from you and he turns into a raving madman.” 

“Well he will have to wait. I want to talk to Brienne.” 

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at him. “My dear brother, you are lovesick, aren't you? But I don't think it will particularly help your case if you rush over there. Give her a few days to cry it out, eat chocolate and do whatever it is females in distress do, and then you are likely to have a rational conversation. Knowing her, she will probably be far too embarrassed to open the door to you right now.” 

“She said she loves me,” Jaime said softly. 

“Yes she did, and she's not going to stop loving you if you don't see her in the next 24 hours. You have to see Father and we need to sort out this family rift.” 

“The family rift that you started!” 

“Yes, yes,” replied Tyrion testily. “But don't forget that you are in the doghouse, too. After all, I didn't go behind Renly's back and cavort with an engaged woman.” 

Jaime stood up, anger written clear upon his face. “I did not ‘cavort’. I did absolutely nothing!” 

Tyrion smiled. “And yet both of you are pining for one another like a modern day Romeo and Juliet.” 

Jaime glared at him. “I really hate you sometimes, you know.” 

Tyrion gave Jaime his most charming grin. “I know. It's such a pity you're not more mean-hearted. Come on, I think we'd better go to bed before I drink you out of house and home.” 

*** 

'Summoned' was definitely the right word to use when it came to seeing his father. Jaime trudged reluctantly across the thick carpets that adorned the executive floor of Lannister Inc and flashed a half-hearted smile at his father's frazzled-looking PA. 

“What mood is he in today?” he asked. 

The poor woman visibly grimaced. “Not great.” 

“I suspected as much,” he sighed. He'd been neglecting his duties as deputy managing director, and he knew his father was not likely to be easy on him. 

“Good luck,” whispered the PA. Jaime smiled dryly at her and swiftly entered the office. 

As soon as he was inside he was assaulted by the rich colour of red – the room was decked out as though it was a throne room, with deep crimson wall coverings and little gold trappings on the furniture. It was all dominated by an imposing mahogany desk, which was neatly ordered to his father's exacting standards. The room smelt strongly of polish and the atmosphere felt tight with the anger of its inhabitant. 

Jaime tugged his one remaining hand out of his pocket and walked purposefully over to his father's desk. Tywin Lannister barely spared his son a glance, choosing instead to focus intently on the paperwork before him. Jaime hesitated for a moment before taking a seat of his own accord. 

“Make yourself comfortable, why don't you?” 

Jaime frowned at the clipped, icy tone of his father. “I'm your son – I won't stand before you like an errant schoolboy.” 

His father raised his sandy eyebrows and fixed him with an icy green glare. “You are also my employee, although you seem to have conveniently forgotten that fact of late.” 

“Oh believe me, I haven't forgotten,” Jaime retorted bitterly. 

His father glared at him disapprovingly and sat up straighter in his hard chair. “I'll have less of that attitude,” he snapped. “You missed some very important meetings.” 

Jaime stared back at him. “I told you – I was at Renly's wedding. I booked the day off.” 

His father snorted. “Oh yes, I heard all about that. What a shambles. I almost begin to wish your sister hadn't connected us to such a family. Not only is Renly not much of a man, but to all be duped by some gold-digging woman… ridiculous.” 

Anger flared in Jaime. “Brienne is not a gold-digging woman. And being gay is not emasculating, whatever you may think.” 

His father narrowed his eyes. “You were taken in by her, too. You're evidently even less perceptive than I thought.” 

Jaime started to see red so he tried to control his breathing in order to retain some semblance of calm. “Did you call me in just so you could insult me, or is there something you actually want to talk to me about?” 

His father steepled his fingers. “I just wanted to remind you of your priorities. Remember that I pay your salary, and I expect you to be here in the office to earn it.” 

“Perhaps I don't want to earn it any more.” The words were out before Jaime really thought them through, but now that he had said them, he knew it to be true. 

His father's eyebrows rose. “Oh? And pray, what will you do to earn your keep if you do not work for me? You have it easy here you know.” 

“I know.” Jaime lifted his chin. “But I hate it. I've always hated it. I only worked here because I know it pleased you, but I just can't bring myself to do it any more.” 

His father's face darkened. “Working here is a privilege. There are dozens of young men who would want to take your place.” 

“Then ask them!” Jaime shot back. “Or better still, promote Tyrion. He's more than capable and he loves all this corporate bullshit.” 

Anger sparked in his father's usually dead eyes. “Tyrion is not my eldest son – you are. You are my heir. Besides, what would our clients think if we had a dwarf as our figurehead?” 

Jaime stood up abruptly. “Probably no different to what they think when they shake the left hand of an amputee.” 

His father grimaced. “It would help if you wore your prosthetic.” 

“Why? Because it makes me look more normal? Wearing a fake hand doesn't make me whole again.” 

“Humph – so where will my one-handed son go to earn a living if he is going to reject my very generous employment?” his father asked, every word frosted with icy anger. 

Jaime stood up straighter. “I met with a man who runs a large gallery last week. I showed him my artwork. He loved it, and even bought one painting straight off. He's invited me to hold an exhibition next month and he thinks it could be the start of a career.” 

His father laughed dryly. “Your fingerpainting? That scrap hardly passes as art. You're being fooled, my boy. You'll end up poor and burning your canvases for fuel.” 

Rage spiked through Jaime and he leant on his father's desk, making sure his stump was on full show. “Maybe I will, but at least I will have tried. I want a chance to do something I love before I sell my soul and become another grey man in a grey suit with nothing to live for apart from the feel of coins between my dead fingers. Fuck you, and fuck your job. I'm done.” 

His father opened his mouth to speak again, but Jaime turned and stormed out of the office, making sure to bang the solid door behind him as loud as possible. _A little juvenile, perhaps, but fuck that feels good_. He smiled to himself as he headed over to the lift and glanced at his watch. _Time for a quick errand, and then I can see the wench_. His heart warmed at the thought and he practically jumped into the lift. _She'll be so pleased when I tell her – I wish I’d had her advice years ago…_

*** 

Jaime had just walked out of the shopping centre and was about to head to Brienne's flat when his phone began to buzz. It was Tyrion. Jaime rolled his eyes and reluctantly answered the call. 

“Jaime, we're all gathered at Robert and Cersei's – there's an emergency family meeting. You need to be here to protect me,” began Tyrion without preamble. 

“You're perfectly capable of doing that yourself, Tyrion,” Jaime sighed. 

“Thanks for your support,” replied Tyrion with sarcasm. “Then I’m afraid I shan’t help you exonerate yourself or explain away Robert's accusation that you deliberately seduced Renly's supposed fiancée to embarrass and humiliate the Baratheon family.” 

Jaime stopped walking. “He doesn't think that, does he?” he asked incredulously. 

“He does. And that opinion certainly won’t be shifted by me if you leave me here to face the wolves alone,” replied Tyrion. 

Anger began to mount again. “Tyrion, you know I'm going to see Brienne.” 

“I know, but please, I think they may eat me alive. I'm using Myrcella and Tommen as human shields at the moment. Please come?” he pleaded. 

Jaime sighed. _I may save him from Baratheon wrath and then simply tear him apart myself._ “Fine, I'm on my way,” he grudgingly agreed. 

“Better bring sustenance and alcohol – we may be here a while,” cautioned Tyrion. “By the way, how did the meeting with Father go?” 

“The least said about that the better,” Jaime grumbled. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Jaime?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thank you.” 

Jaime sighed deeply again and ended the call. He looked longingly in the direction of Brienne’s flat for a moment longer before reluctantly changing direction and heading back the way he’d come. 

*** 

It had been nearly a week since the almost-wedding and Jaime still hadn’t been able to get away in all that time to see Brienne. The ‘fall-out’, as Tyrion termed it, had turned into a lengthy saga with plenty of bellowing and shouting, and the occasional snide comment. However, it had finally all settled down - Loras and Renly were back together and openly a couple, Robert had finally accepted it, and both him and Tyrion were more or less forgiven, although Jaime doubted very much that they’d be fully in the clear for some time yet. 

At least he was now free of that house. Tyrion had scarpered to the train station first thing this morning in order to hide himself away with that strange woman of his, and Jaime was finally, finally on his way to see Brienne. 

He bounded up the stairs to her flat, his heart in his mouth. _Please let her be OK_. Both he and Tyrion had tried texting and ringing her a few times, but she had not replied. _Please let her be alright_. 

Jaime finally reached her door and hammered on its battered surface. He waited anxiously, hopping from one foot to the other. There was no answer. He banged on the door again. “Brienne?” he called. Still nothing. Jaime ran his one good hand through his hair in frustration. “Brienne, it’s Jaime. If you’re in there, please open the door.” 

“What are you doing?” 

Jaime spun round to find himself face-to-face with Brienne’s greasy neighbour. “Hyle, isn’t it?” he asked, flashing the repulsive man a charming smile. “Do you know where Brienne is?” 

Hyle shrugged. “Nope.” He folded his arms in a laughable attempt to look intimidating. “She’s been upset all week. Is that your doing?” he questioned. 

Jaime groaned inwardly as guilt slid through him. “Partially. Look, I’ve really got to talk to her. Please tell me where she is.” 

Hyle snorted snottily. “Why should I? She was fine before you started sniffing round her. She wouldn’t cry if she was with me.” 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Desperation surged through him. “Give it a rest,” he snarled. “Where is Brienne?” 

Jaime’s rage must have finally been noticed by Hyle, for he recoiled slightly. “She’s at work,” he eventually said. 

Jaime sighed with relief. “OK… I know she works in a ticket office near here, but where exactly?” 

Hyle clamped his mouth shut and said nothing, a fat, smug smile on his face. _You stubborn son-of-a-bitch_. Jaime waited for a second more, but it was obvious that this smug bastard wasn’t going to tell him anything. With a huff of anger, Jaime tore past him and rushed down the stairs. As he did so he dug out his phone and got up a map of the local area. _I guess I’ll just have to do it the hard way… I wonder how many tube stations there are around here?_

As it turned out, there were lots. 

*** 

A whole week had passed, a whole week, and yet Brienne did not feel any happier. Her misery and loneliness hung over her like a cloud, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to get it to shift. 

After she left the registry office she’d managed to get her tears under control enough to leap into the first available taxi and head home. She even managed to keep herself in check as she climbed wearily up the stairs to her flat, but when she went in and saw Jaime’s snowglobe on the coffee table, she could hold it in no longer. She fell to the floor and surrendered to the kind of body-wracking tears that overcome children, and she didn’t stop until the lateness of the day had darkened her room. Too exhausted to walk to her bedroom, Brienne had merely heaved herself onto the sofa and fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep. 

She’d woken the next day with a throat raw from crying and eyes gummed together with the salt from her tears. Ashamed of herself, she’d hauled her aching body into the shower and doused herself in scalding water. When she came out, she left her silk wedding dress lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. She wouldn’t be needing it again. 

She then dressed in her uniform for work, and headed down to the tube station. 

To say everyone was surprised to see her there was an understatement. Pod had been particularly concerned, but she’d shrugged off his worry and consigned herself to the ticket office. Pod and Sansa had tried everything to get her to talk to them, but she merely shook her head and kept her mouth shut. She’d caused enough trouble voicing things out loud that should never have been heard. 

Since then, she’d begun to function like an automaton. She got up, got dressed, went to work, did overtime if possible, and then went home to her empty flat. She’d noticed that Tyrion had left her several concerned messages, but what was the point in replying? He wasn’t her family anymore. She’d also noticed a few calls from Jaime, but she couldn’t bear the thought of talking to him. She was embarrassed and ashamed enough as it was. 

She could tell she was exhausted. Her body felt heavy and her eyes were gritty. She probably shouldn’t have taken the overtime offered to her, but the thought of going home to empty stillness and an aloof cat was just too unbearable. The clock was now creeping towards evening and soon her shift would end. Brienne felt stiff and uncomfortable in her seat, and she was tired of looking at grey faces illuminated by the sickly glow of the florescent lights. It was as though she was looking through a lens that sucked the colour out of everything and left a dreary masterpiece in its wake. 

A gentle hand on her shoulder stirred her from her gloomy thoughts. “Brienne? Are you OK?” 

Brienne gave a small nod to Pod, who was looking at her with pure worry on his face. “Why don’t you take tomorrow off and get some rest?” he suggested softly. 

“I don’t want to laze around my flat all day feeling sorry for myself. All I’ve got waiting at home is a cat who is liable to scratch me if I hog her favourite place on the sofa.” Brienne sighed. “I’ll be alright, Pod. I’ll get over it in time.” 

Pod gave her a watery smile and went back to his seat. Brienne felt guilty as she knew he was only trying to help, but she just couldn’t stand all the sympathy she was getting. After all, she was the one who deceived everyone and tore a family apart. 

The faceless crowds going through the barriers were beginning to thin out when a loud pulsing echo began to thunder down the corridor. It sounded as though someone was running - not an unusual occurrence at rush hour, but a little strange at this time of the evening. 

The thudding noise got louder and Brienne leaned forward at her desk to see who was thundering around. _I hope it’s not a bag snatcher._

A warped shadow of a man now appeared against the opposite wall and confirmed that the sound she was hearing was indeed running. Brienne frowned and narrowed her eyes, waiting for the man to appear. 

Finally he turned the corner and stared directly into the ticket office. Brienne gasped and shrank back against her seat. 

It was Jaime. 

He evidently saw her inside for he stopped abruptly, his chest rising and falling sharply as he attempted to catch his breath. His shining hair was wild from his sprint down the tunnel, but his face was mainly hidden in shadow. Brienne squirmed in her seat as he approached the office. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. What does he want?!_

Brienne stared steadfastly down at her lap as he approached the window, not wanting to see the loathing in his face. She could feel his eyes on her, but she simply didn’t have the courage to meet his gaze. 

“Brienne?” 

His voice was surprisingly soft - gentle even. It made Brienne look up in surprise. His eyes were still the luminous green of new spring grass, but they were completely lacking in the hatred Brienne had been expecting. Instead they were warm, and a little concerned. 

“I had no idea how many bloody tube stations there are in the area,” he began when she proved unable to answer him. “I think I’ve seen almost all of them now. This one is the best though,” he japed. Brienne tried to smile but found that she couldn’t. Jaime paused and the concern in his eyes deepened. “Are you OK, Brienne? You look exhausted.” 

The tenderness in his voice made Brienne fumble for words. “I’m fine. I’m just so sorry… for everything,” she eventually choked out. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” 

Jaime shook his head, his eyes fixed on hers. “No, I’m sorry. I should have come to see you sooner…” He shook his head angrily at himself. “I’ve been holed up in Robert and Cersei’s house and I just couldn’t get away.” 

_He wanted to see me? Why?_ Brienne blinked in confusion. “I suppose there was a lot to sort out considering the mess I caused,” she acknowledged in a hoarse voice. 

Jaime’s face creased with worry. “It’s alright Brienne, it’s all sorted now: Renly and Loras are together and in the open for the first time, Robert has accepted it, and even Tyrion has managed to swan off into the sunset with his head still attached to his shoulders.” 

Brienne gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m glad… I’m glad I haven’t ruined everything.” She took a shaky breath. “I just hope you all forgive me eventually.” 

“Oh Brienne,” sighed Jaime. “That was done before you even left the room.” 

Brienne felt her heart still. “W…what?” she stammered. 

Jaime smiled, causing little creases to appear at the corner of his eyes. “Of course we all forgive you - no one could think for one minute that you’ve got a bad bone in your body.” 

Brienne sobbed with relief. _They forgive me! They forgive me!_ “Thank you,” she said in a scratchy voice. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you.” 

Jaime shuffled awkwardly in front her. “Brienne, what you said at the wedding…” 

Brienne felt her cheeks colour spectacularly. “Oh God… I’m sorry! Just forget I ever said anything. It was stupid of me…” 

Jaime frowned, his eyes dark. “Brienne…” He stopped and glanced at the outline of the screen that separated the two of them. “Dammit, can you open the door and come out here? I don’t want to keep talking to you with this screen in the way.” 

Brienne glanced at Pod who motioned for her to open the door with a puzzled expression. Turning back to Jaime, she nodded her assent and awkwardly pulled her tall frame up from behind the cramped desk. Time seemed to slow as she fumbled with the keys. _They’ve forgiven me… I can’t believe it…_

Eventually she found the right key and pulled open the door. She was about to step out when suddenly Jaime rushed in and crashed against her. She cried out in surprise but then Jaime’s arms were wrapped tightly around her and his lips were pressing against her own. Brienne lost all semblance of rational thought and threw her own arms around Jaime’s neck, allowing her fingers to tangle in his hair. She felt his warm tongue flick against her dry lips and she opened them willingly to him. She dimly heard a few gasps and even some applause from passers-by as their kiss deepened, but the sensation of having Jaime pressed up against her soon blocked it out. 

After what seemed like an age, they pulled apart to catch their breath. _He kissed me! WHY?_

Brienne stared intently into Jaime’s eyes, which were as warm and liquid as molten gold. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Jaime finally murmured into her ear. “I love you, Brienne.” 

Brienne’s heart was now beating impossibly fast as her brain struggled to process what her ears were hearing. “You… what?” she said stupidly. 

Jaime laughed, his gorgeous dimples lending his face a child-like joy. “I love you,” he repeated. “I’ve spent the last few weeks ridden with jealousy because I thought you were in love with Renly.” 

Unexpected joy now threatened to make Brienne’s heart leap clear out of her chest. Finally she allowed herself to smile - it was probably the fullest smile she’d ever given, and she felt as though to smile any wider would surely split her face in two. 

Jaime was also grinning. Carefully, he raised his left hand and caressed her cheek. “I spoke to my father…” he whispered confidentially. “I remembered what you said about my art - no one outside of my family had ever seen it before. After that night, I took some pieces to a gallery and they’ve agreed to show them. I’ve told my father I’m leaving the company to try and make it as an artist. I would never have done that without you. Thank you.” 

Pride coursed through Brienne as she hugged him close. “That must have taken guts, Jaime. I’m proud of you.” 

“Thanks wench,” he replied cheekily. 

Brienne frowned in mock disapproval. “It’s Brienne and you know it.” 

Jaime’s grin spread wider. “Alright, _Brienne_. I have something for you.” Jaime released her from their tight embrace and felt awkwardly in his coat pocket. “Hold out your hand,” he murmured seductively. 

Confused, Brienne held it out and Jaime placed an envelope in it. “Open it,” he urged. Brienne tore it open and pulled out two pieces of paper. Frowning, she opened them up and quickly read their contents. 

**Two-way ticket to Rome**

Her eyes widened in shock and excitement. “Rome?!” she spluttered. 

Jaime’s smile was impossibly wide. “I thought we could go there on our honeymoon.” 

_What?!_

“Our… Jaime? What are you doing?” To Brienne’s acute embarrassment, Jaime had suddenly dropped to one knee as if they were characters in an old romance. Brienne didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or die of embarrassment, particularly as several travellers had now stopped to watch the show. 

“What are you doing?” she hissed at him, wishing she could hide away somewhere where no one could see her. Her cheeks felt as though they were on fire. 

Jaime ignored her protests and suddenly offered up a ring with a large sapphire beaming from the centre. “Brienne, will you marry me?” he asked in a hopeful voice. 

Time definitely seemed to have stopped for Brienne now. _Is this real? This can’t be real. Oh God, he’s serious! We barely know eachother!_ Brienne took a few deep calming breaths to focus her panicky mind. _This is stupid, it’s too soon… I mean, it was only last week when I was meant to marry someone else. But this is Jaime. You DO know him. You love him. You fell for him almost from that moment when you were fighting him for the keys in the kitchen. Why wait?_

Slowly, a smile broke out on Brienne’s face again. Her heart sang and her ears buzzed with happiness. 

“Yes, Jaime. I will marry you.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwwww! I apologise if things became a little too saccharine at the end... I think I deleted and re-posted the proposal a hundred times because I couldn't decide whether it was just too much. However, this isn't reality and I think Brienne deserved an extra dose of mushy happiness. :-)


End file.
